About A Boy
by JamieCorrs
Summary: AU. "Why me?" Logan asked. Rory shrugged, "You look like the guy who'd tango in a gas station."
1. Chapter 1

**August 2018**

It was around 6 p.m. when the heat wave finally broke.

Rory sat on her childhood porch steps watching Aiden running around on the lawn with the sprinklers blasting.  
Her trusted 'Canon' rested in arms reach. Time with Aiden was always summoned camera worthy moments.  
Watching him fascinated her. Happiness easily oozed out of the child.

"I can't believe he's nearly three." Her mother voice interrupted her thoughts.  
Lorelai Gilmore sat down next to her daughter offering her the second cup of coffee in her hand.

"I know." Rory agreed, inhaling the luxurious smell before taking a sip. "It's crazy."

"How unreasonable it is for you to have a kid that likes the outdoors." Lorelai wondered at loud.

"He likes broccoli too." Rory added, "That's his father fault. I did my best to talk him out of it."

"Well he's not a girl, and not a Gilmore." Lorelai shrugged, "So I guess that's a loophole in the rule book."

The younger woman looked at her mother astonished.

"Don't look at me like that. It was you who decided to let him take his father's name." Lorelai pointed out.

"You wrote the book!"

"I didn't write the book. The book writes itself." Lorelai defended.

"You know, that wasn't really up for discussion when we decided to co-parent." Rory started, "Logan was very adamant about it."

"Well Logan can be very adamant when he set his mind to it." Her mother agreed vaguely.

"Mom." Rory started again, pulling on the edge of her t-shirt, "I need to tell you something about Logan…"

"Mommy look!" The boy called her attention. He covered the sprinkler's head with his small hand.  
Making the water spray in different directions. Doubling over with laughter.

Lorelai cheered loudly which caused him to repeat. "You were saying?"

Rory went to speak but stopped when she noticed the driver sat in the car approaching the drive way.

She watched Aiden switch his attention from the sprinkles to the automobile.  
Her hand instinctively reached for the camera to capture the enormous grin that broke on his face.

"Daddy!"

"I'll tell you later." Was all that left her lips as she snapped the picture of the wet toddler leaping into Logan Huntzberger's arms.

* * *

Rory sat in her mother's kitchen, staring at the images displayed on her laptop screen.  
She must has done this a million times before, looking up the old pictures of Aiden and Logan.

"That's a good picture." He mother's voice gestured at the image from today's afternoon.  
Logan, barefoot in his dress-shirt and slacks, chasing Aiden around in the sprinklers.

"It is." Rory admitted. "Coffee?"

"Have we met?" Lorelai pressed the coffee maker into action.

Rory chuckled at her mom's antics.

"So… what was it you wanted to tell me earlier?" Lorelai busied herself with locating appropriately clean cup.

Rory discretely peered into her childhood room. There on the bed laid her son and his father fast asleep.  
One exhausted from the day's activities, the other from trans-Atlantic jet leg.

She quietly closed the door.

"I slept with Logan."

"Yes. Old news, that's why we have Aiden." Lorelai responded, pouring the coffee unfazed.

Rory stayed silent, worrying her lip.

"No. I mean I slept with Logan, recently." She said slowly.

Lorelai's lips fell into a silent "Oh."

"Oh? All you have to say is 'oh'?!" Rory whispered loudly.

"Well…. how recently are we talking about?" Lorelai questioned. Coffee maker forgotten.

"Before he left to London." Lorelai watched Rory bury her face in her hands.

"Ha. That recent."

Rory peeked through her fingers at the elder Gilmore, "Mon, what am I going to do?"

"That depends. Do you think you want to do it again?"


	2. Chapter 2

Hi all.  
Good to be back. If you were following before welcome back yourselves.  
There's a lot of ground to cover for this story so bare with me. This would be a Rogan, and we're starting with Logan.  
On to more exciting things - I'm looking for a beta reader. If you're up to the job and your grammar is superB, please PM. Feel free to leave comments.

* * *

**April 2009**

Colin's jaguar glided into the abounded parking lot in front of the old 'Pyramid' Shopping Center.

Now, like most real estate of its kind, the enormous building laid in the Hartford suburbs was beyond its prime years. Faded signs. scrapped paint. wood boards instead of glassy windows.

Finn's black SUV was the only reminder for the blend of the ghostly cars that once occupied its parking lot. Aside for it, the breaks in asphalt filled with poodles left from the latest spring showers.

Logan vaguely remembered Honor and him coming here to watch the movies with their nanny. Once, Honor insisted they buy the biggest caramel popcorn bucket and he ended up throwing up.

He can't stand the faintest smell of caramel popcorn ever since.

"Finn has finally lost all his marbles." Collin too eyed the worn-down building and glanced side-wise at Logan who occupied the passenger seat, tearing him away from his memories.

"He just texted that he's inside and said to come in." Logan showed the lawyer his phone screen and yanked the door open. After eight hours flight he was grateful for any standing activity.

"That's trespassing." Collin ranted slamming the driver door shut, falling in step with the blonde. "It's Illegal."

"Since when does that bothers you?" Logan chuckled amused at his stoic friend. Collin seemed to become more uptight the better he got at his job.

"Since I've earned myself a good reputation. You guys being away has done wonders for my social standing." Colin reasoned turning on his flashlight app in his phone as Logan pushed the heavy doors.

"FINN!" Logan's voice echoed in the darkness of the first floor of the old mall.

"I don't know why are we humoring him." Colin blinked at the darkness besides him and sniffed the air. "Something certainly died here."

"POLO!" Finn's cheerful voice echoed back an identical illumination of a cellphone appeared in the far corner.

"Seriously, couldn't we do it in daylight?" the annoyance in Colin's voice couldn't not be any more obvious.

"I'M COMING!" The Australian footsteps echoed in the hollow hall.

"THE POWER IS OUT! WATCH OUT FOR THE CONSTRUCTION MATERIALS. AoW."

"It's Finn. He has a thing with the sun." Logan offered, exploring the darkness with the flashlight.

Logan was curious, this mall has been closed for years, frozen in time, a time capsule cover in pitch black.  
He couldn't remember the last time he visited a mall. Nowadays he has an assistance for stuff like that.

"WELCOME TO THE MAGNIFICENT AND WONDERFUL PYRAMID CENTER!" Finn announced somewhere in the dark. Closer than expected.

"Jesus Finn. Give a man a warning." Colin's voice was a notch higher than usual.

Next, Logan felt his body squeezed in a bone crushing hug. "Logan! So long mate!"

Logan turned the light to Finn's face.

"So, what do you think of my new property?" Finn probed. "I wanted you to see it."

"It's dark."

"This place gives me the creeps. You own this dump?"

"Harsh much, Colin?" Logan muttered under his breath.  
"I call it as I see it."

Finn didn't seem take to heart. "Let's talk outside, I can't seem to bring the power back."

Exiting Logan blinked at the dim lit parking lot and turned back to look at the huge building. A vision of decomposed glitter.

"You bought a closed-down-mall?" He wondered what possessed Finn to buy this white elephant.

Colin, his his arms across his chest, was less nice about it. "You invested in this shit-hole?!"

"Of course! It's a fantastic investment! So much potential." Australian looked at the abounded shopping mall with sheer excitement. "We're gonna transform this baby into super-stardom!"

"We?" Colin asked skeptic. "There's nothing in the world you can say to convince me to become your business partner. So, if that's why we're here, I'd rather we just head to the pub now."

"Oh you stuffy man. I don't need you." Finn grabbed Colin's head affectionately. "I already have a business partner. There she comes." he said smiling and pointing towards a yellow Jeep entering the parking lot.

Interesting turns of events. Logan and Colin exchanged looks.

"She?" Logan questioned quickly glancing sideways at Finn. Aware of the distinguish sound of a heels approaching. "What are you planning to do with it?"

"You're looking at the new state of the 'lifestyle center and conference boutique hotel'." A woman's sassy voice joined the conversation.

Logan eyes met a dark-haired blue-eyed attractive woman dressed semi-professionally in dark jeans, a t-shirt and pink blazer. He couldn't exactly pin-point her age.

"Guys I'm honored and humbled to introduce you to Ms. Lorelai Gilmore. Hospitality extraordinaire!" Finn conduced a quick introduction, "Lorelai meet my best mates – Logan and Colin."

"Nice to meet you" Logan charmingly shook her hand, "Logan Huntzberger."

Her eyes lit up with recognition at his name. No wedding ring.

Colin nodded shortly; arms still guarded at his chest. "Likewise. Look, I'm sorry Finn dragged you all the way here just to meet us. Apparently, he doesn't need us. So now that's we've seen it, we're going to bounce."

"I said I didn't need _your_ help." Finn shuffled his feet, "we need Logan's."

"Me?" The blonde wondered aloud.

"Finn said that maybe you can help us get Chelsea Rose on board. We REALLY want her as a consultant for the design." The woman jumped in fast talking speed, eyes shone cheekily with excitement that mirrored Finn's. "But she's hard to convince."

Colin nearly chocked on his own saliva and let low whistle and looked at Finn with alarm. He should have known better bringing up the one who-shell-not-be-named.

Finn looked sheepish.

"I've been following her work for some time now. Her designs are so inspiring. I strongly believe that she can really help bring our plans to the next level. Complete up-scale."

The dark-haired beauty was too caught up in her monologue to notice the rising tension between the three men.

Logan felt his jaw harden and clenched his hands in his pockets.

"I was told that I'd have to ask nicely, then you might incline." Lorelai Gilmore batted her pretty blue eyes at him. "So pretty please?! I would make sure the best coffee on earth would be delivered right to your door step every day."

"Logan lives in London, Love."  
"Okay, so scones instead? Would that be better?" the pretty woman's eyes focused on Logan.

"Finn has her number." Logan said diplomatically. His eyes shooting daggers at his Australian friend.

"I called her." The Australian guiltily scratched the back of his neck. "She said no."

"Then you have your answer." Logan concluded firmly, his feet moving towards the car. "Let's go, Colin."

Lorelai's heels fell in step with his stride. Finn's steps not far behind.

"I understand if this is unconventional. You don't know me very well. Well at all. But I'd personally really appreciate if you'll make a call. Finn says if anyone can turn someone into anything, especially Chelsea Rose, it's you."

Logan didn't miss her flirty attempt or the flattery thrown his way.

Finn was smart to recruit a female. But she clearly lacked insight otherwise she'd choose her words more carefully.

"My days of turning Chelsea are over." The bitter note in his voice didn't go unnoticed. Logan run his hand in his hair. "I can't believe you're even asking…"

"In what world did it occur to you that it would be a good idea…" Colin muttered to Finn under his breath again.

Finn shoot the lawyer a quick 'you're-not-helping' glare.

"Logan please, mate. It's just phone call. Chelsea was excited about the concept. But she unwilling because..." usually fluent Finn seemed out of his depth, "…She'd love to hear from you, she misses you."

Opening the passenger door, Logan paused to look at the two eager entrepreneurs on his heels.

Finn looked at him torn and hopeful.

Lorelai's eyes searched his face carefully.

He focused on Finn. Trying to mask the fleeting hint of betrayal flooding through him.

"Don't ever ask me to call my ex-wife. Especially not for favors." Logan firm voice indicated the conversation was over.

"If she wants to talk, she can talk to my lawyer."


	3. Chapter 3

Hi all.  
First, a big shout-out to all of you who shared your excitement, encouragement, and thoughts in the comment section. I was a little uncertain how this fic will be received, so I'm glad you've taken your time to express your sentiment. It's heartwarming and appreciated :)  
Second, a little confession from the writing desk. This part was originally planned to appear later in the chapters breakdown. But once it was written it was clear this needs to come now. So we're rolling with what the story dictates here really... although it slightly mess my carefully planned story-line web.  
I'm not sure this next part will help satisfy the suspense some of you have expressed. You are welcome to share your thoughts as always.  
Now, I give you Rory.

* * *

**July 2008**

Rory joined the round of applause for the keynote speaker.

The auditorium was full from wall to wall. Something that rarely happened during her college days, but reminded her the campaign rallies when she first joined the journalist's bandwagon.

_'You're not in college anymore, Rory_'. She reminded herself. Again.

The digital journalism conference was good as any opportunity to get a sense of what happening in the business. Rory was out of date with the latest gossip and who was hiring.

It was time she got herself in gear. It surely was better than sitting at home and staring at her empty inbox.

It wasn't like her phone was ringing with job offers.

The room began to clear, the crowd of journalists and other shareholders, moving on into their next fifteen minutes of networking. It's been a few months since she was surrounded by journalists.

Rory tried to calculate the best route to get her next coffee cup without running into unwelcome acquaintances. Like Dan Lowrance.

She spied Doyle, her old editor in the Yale Daily news. For lack of better options, he'd have to do.

She wasn't fast enough.

"Rory!" the familiar voice caught up with her just a few steps away from her intended companion, "looking even more beautiful than I remember."

Rory hoped her big smile masked her cringe "Dan! Funny meeting you here."

'What a stupid thing to say', Rory scolded herself.

"It's summer vacation, no teaching. I thought it'll be good as any opportunity to work on my professional connections. Keep up with the field." He flashed her a confident smile and Rory remembered why this man used to be her favorite mistake.

Paris used to say she was a fool for swimming in the kiddie pool of the faculty. Rory couldn't help it; she was a sucker for brilliant smiles.

Then Asher Fleming died and scaredy-cat Dan ended their relationship in fear for his career.

She wasn't particularly broken up about it as Paris was, for obvious reasons. Nowadays she's quite grateful their unprofessional arrangement ended before her mother found out.

Yet, it was probably the most juicy-worthy detail in her college dating history. Because between Dean, Marty, Eric and some other one-date boys no one left a real dent in her.

There was Robert, a son of one of her grandma's bridge club members, who tried to convince her to have sex in the library. Her mother still can't enough of teasing her for chickening out.

"Yeah, sure. It's good to see you. I was just going to grab a cup of coffee."

Her fingers itched her camera. She resisted the urge to snap his picture. That would send the wrong message.

"Somethings never change, eh? I could do with some coffee."

"I'm just gonna grab some from over there…" she rambled, "and you know, head for the next session."

"We could do proper coffee after; I'd love to catch up." She recognized that smile too.

"I can't. I have plans." She didn't really. "With my mom."

Dan Lowrance appeared to be persistent. "Tomorrow then? You're in town for a few days, right?"

"Actually, she'll be on her way to Seattle." Hugo's low voice boomed into the conversation behind her old T.A's shoulder.

She was never this happy to see the graying man's rounded face.

* * *

"Hooking-up with the T.A. Gilmore? Didn't think you were the type." Her former boss slowly stirred the sugar in his coffee.

"I'm not!" she defended quickly at his raised eyebrow, "anymore."

"Where you at these days?"

"Apparently I'm on my way to Seattle tomorrow," Rory answered smartly then shrugged. "Here and there. Sold some photos to Getty. Doing some freelancing. Nothing defined. No one's really hiring. D.C didn't materialize in the end."

"Yes, the economy hit us all. Everyone's downsizing" He affirmed. "What kind of freelancing?"

"Weddings, mostly."

The slivering man laughed, "You? Weddings?"

"I'm in the business of freezing happy memories." She explained her unusual freelance choice. Knowing she sounded like a complete loony she added, "Money is good too."

"I've got a lead, if you're interested."

"That depends. I'm kinda all fed up with national politics cynics."

"It's an online vendor. They're looking for someone with your experience with content and visual media." Hugo relayed the information, "Serious guys. They have an interesting concept. Their business model looks sound. Young vibe. If that's what you're looking for."

"What's the catch?" Rory asked. She trusted Hugo. After all, he gave her the first real chance and the first job she ever had. But this sounded too good to be true. "They're based in Timbuktu?"

"Close enough, Seattle."

"Funny," Rory replied dryly. "Seriously now."

"There has to be some truth in every lie." He winked, retrieving a navy-blue business card with white lettering from his wallet. "Call Ben. Tell him I say hi."

* * *

"Malory Gibbson always said that girl was promiscuous, but I'd never thought she was into that. Her poor mother, she must be devastated." Emily Gilmore relayed the latest gossip from her Bridge club.

Across the table, Richard Gilmore continued to cut his stake in silence.

"Mary said it's all on camera too. Who would do something like this? Did you hear about that Richard?"

"No, I haven't Emily."

"Maybe I should send Mali Rosen a flower arrangement. Don't you think Richard? To express our support."

"You don't send divorce flowers to the mother of the cheating party, Mom," Lorelai interjected sarcastically. "Chocolates might be more appropriate."

"Chocolates don't convey the same sentiment as flowers, Lorelai." Emily rolled her eyes at her daughter.

"You should send dead flowers, that would convey the right sentiment," Lorelai smirked at Rory from across the table.

"Lorelai." Richard Gilmore scolded his daughter, "enough. Let's for once just have a nice quiet Friday dinner."

"I was just suggesting chocolates as a better option, they're tasty."

"Rory, how was the conference in New York? Have you made any new connections?" The Gilmore patriarch tuned his daughter out, turning to his granddaughter.

"Its was interesting grandpa. I talked to some people. Run into Hugo." Rory moved the vegetables around her plate.

Her grandmother insisted a complete meal included vegetables, although neither Lorelai or Rory ate them.

"That's excellent." Her grandfather praised. "He's an important contact to preserve. Are you going back to work for him?"

"No. He's not hiring." Rory answered slowly, glancing briefly at her mother. "Actually, I have news about that."

"Oh wonderful." Emily commended, "Lorelai why didn't you say Rory had news? Let's hear it."

"I didn't know." Lorelai looked at her daughter accusingly.

"Well don't keep us in suspense, Rory." Emily Gilmore probed.

"I got a new job offer. It's an online vendor. They specialize in visual storytelling."

"That's excellent news, Rory! Is it in New York?"

"No. Actually," Rory swallowed hard, guiltily glancing at her mother," it's in Seattle."

* * *

**November 2008**

Ben Atwood looked a little stressed. The first thing Rory noticed about her new boss was the messy mop of hair.

His shirt wasn't buttoned right, too.

A large knight table stood in the middle of the office space. To its right she spied two glass-walled offices.

"I'm so sorry. The office is such a mess." Ben Atwood picked up clutter and empty takeaway containers as he went. "It's been a little crazy here lately. We're unexpectedly short on staff."

"I'm immune to mess. You should see my mother's house." Rory tried to sound assuring. She clenched her camera closer to her body for comfort.

"We, at 'Current' usually try to make a better first impression on our new employees." He dumped the litter into the bin in the break room. "Right, Kate?"

"Ummm. Sure, Ben." The brunette named Kate responded absently. She was dressed to the nines. "We run out of cream."

"Ah. Shit. Can you please step out and get some?" The slim man dug out his credit card.

"It's not in my job description." The brunette said eyed him skeptically. "I told you to hire an office manager."

"Right." The credit card still hanged in his hand, like he didn't know what to do next.

Rory noticed his glasses was sellotaped.

Kate coughed discretely gesturing at Rory.

"Right! I almost forgot. Kate – Rory. Kate is our graphic designer. Rory will be doing some content and visuals. I guess you'll be working together quite a lot."

"I can go get some cream." Rory pipped up, camera in hand.

The brunette looked at her suspiciously. Ben looked gratefully relieved. "You would?"

"Yes. It's no problem."

"Awesome!" Ben awkwardly handed her the credit card, catching a glance at his watch. "Shit. I have to run; Kate, can you show Rory around? Help her settle and pick a working station?"

"Sure." Kate shrugged indifferently.

The two women watched their boss hurry across the office floor.

"Don't tell him, but I don't take cream in my coffee." The graphic designer quipped. "He's just too easy."

Rory broke into a smile, glad to discover the other woman was less intimidating than she let on.

"So, I shouldn't mention his shirt to him?"

"Oh no! We like him frumpy." The brunette signaled for Rory to follow her.

"So, the desk by the window is mine, I have the best view. You can take any desk you want. Don't worry about getting blinded by the sun – we're in Seattle, it rains 9 months of the year."

Rory nodded taking in the office setting. Kate's desk was the only desk occupied in another glass room. It fit three more desks.

"You know where the break room is. Ben's office is the one with the red door frame. We usually all eat lunch together at that table." The graphic designer pointed at the table Ben just cleared.

Rory remembered Hugo's words about a young vibe.

"Washrooms is by the elevator; they serve the whole floor. Personally, I prefer to go one floor up. Less traffic."

Kate continued checking off her mental list, "Tech and the web-developers are in the cubicles over there behind that glass wall. And that pretty much it."

"What's in there?" Rory turned Kate's attention to the glass office next to Ben's.

"That's the CEO's office," Kate answered flippantly, "You don't need to worry about it. I doubt you're ever gonna see him. Ben is basically running the show."


	4. Chapter 4

For the sake of reducing time jumps in the story, we're still in 2008. What a fun year that was...  
I'm not a law expert, so everything is just for the sake of the story.  
They will meet, soon. I promise.  
Loved reading your latest comments, thank you!

* * *

**February 2008 **

Priscilla Atwood tightly hugged the rub to her slim figure as she hurried for the door.

_Tomorrow_, she swore to herself, _tomorrow I'm disconnecting the buzzer. _

The man on the other side of the door wore an expensive camel wool coat, his black shoes shined and his golden hair was styled flawlessly.

His umbrella wet from the Seattle rain.

"I got the prenup" he addressed someone behind her seriously. Waving a folder.

Priscilla glanced back over her shoulder, hardly surprised to find Logan Huntzberger standing there.

"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience this time of night." The man's posture indicated he expected to be invited in, "I'm hoping we'll be out of your hair in a short while."

Priscilla stopped herself from rolling her eyes. The moment Logan Huntzberger landed on their door unexpectedly last Saturday night, her quiet life has turned into a roller coaster.

By the look of this late-night visit, it wasn't going to end soon.

"Ben," He shook her husband's hand firmly, "I see congratulation are in order."

Priscilla cradled her small bump with her hands as if protecting her unborn child.

"Yes. Yes. Thank you, Mr. Huntzberger." Her husband looked slightly uncomfortable standing in the man's presence. "We can talk in the kitchen."

"Call me Mitchum." The man waved him off, setting his steps in the direction of her smaller kitchen.

_"Logan's dad."_ Ben mouthed her.

The Chinese woman shook her head at her husband. As if his looks didn't already give it away.

She watched the older man palm softly cup the back Logan's neck, "Okay, boy?"

* * *

Logan's figures tapped nervously on the tabletop. His coffee left untouched to stale.

Ben stood slightly behind him uncomfortably, crossed arms, his lengthy figure leaning against the kitchen cupboards.

Apart from the blonde's tapping, the only sound heard in the small kitchen was Mitchum's fingers flipping the pages of the document he carefully read.

To Ben, the yellowish light in the small kitchen didn't make Mitchum Huntzberger's presence less intimidating.

"I thought you read it on the plane." Logan finally broke the nervous silence.

"Most of it," Mitchum confirmed, his eyes skimmed the last written pages then turned to meet his son's.

"Are you sure you want to file? Maybe you should take some more days to think about it. Not make any rushed decisions."

"I'm sure."

"Chelsea is a great young woman. You've known each other forever." His father pointed out.

If his mother was here, she'd surely lobby her breeding more strongly.

"You don't throw away your marriage because of a temporary lap of judgment."

"This isn't a temporary lap of judgment. She's a liar and a cheater," Logan concluded firmly crossing his arm effectively closing the door on the conversation. "She only came clean because this has blown-up in her face. She never intended to."

Ben rubbed his glasses in the hem of his shirt uncomfortably.

"What happens when I file?" Logan asked his father. "I want this done as quickly and quietly as possible."

"We would still need to consult the lawyers. But basically, what I get from this, is that everything prior to your marriage is safe since you're not the primary benefiter or owner. So, anything HPG is safe. She can't claim to it." Mitchum summarized.

Trust his father to care about the family business first.

"She can't claim the trust fund either. And in a situation when there's no kids, this is relatively simple. Or so I was told."

Logan nodded, that was the simple part.

"It gets complicated though. According to the prenup, every capital benefiting business and property acquired after your wedding day is potentially up for equal division."

Mitchum paused for a beat.

"Unless you can prove your own money invested was bigger than hers or not part of the shared assets."

"That's good. We can prove the money you put into 'Current' was legibly yours, right?" Ben pipped up behind him, finally taking a seat at the table.

Priscilla's eyes grow wide.

Finally understanding why was Ben extremely worried once Logan broke the news about his impending divorce.

"Yes. Of course. Everything is documented." Logan confirmed.

"That's not so simple." Mitchum's voice interrupted, "They're both California residents, according to the law assets are divided equally. We'd have to see what the lawyers say about this."

"I'd hate to prey, but how much property are we talking about here?" Ben asked carefully.

"The California house, her interior design brand, the technological patents, and Current." Logan counted.

"What a mess." The tall man rubbed his temple.

"Yes." Mitchum agreed shuffling once one the pages looking for the lawyer's signature, "who draw these papers? There must be a loophole we can find."

"Unless I forfeit my right to it." Logan words exploded in the kitchen.

Ben looked as if he's about to faint.

"That is even more stupid than divorcing her." Mitchem scolded his son. "It is a lot of money."

Logan seems unfazed by his father outburst. "I don't care about money.

Priscilla briefly met Ben's eyes worriedly.

She knew Ben loved Logan like a brother, but this is something that only someone who had buckets loads of money could say. They put nearly everything they had into Current.

"Logan, I get that you're angry. But you're not thinking rationally …" Ben started.

"I am thinking rationally." Logan insisted, "If it's not mine she can't touch it."

Ben looked confused "What do you mean not yours? _We_ are current."

"I promise you, Current will be safe. No matter how I get out of this divorce." Logan tried to make his tone assuring.

He really hope his friend will forgive him for what he was about to do.

It didn't help much, Ben just looked terribly worried.

The young blonde sighed, swallowed hard, and turned to look his father straight in the eye.

"I want you to buy me out."

* * *

**June 2008**

"Why didn't you send Finn?" The lawyer pointed at the Australian lounging on the couch in Logan's rented Seattle apartment. "He's just as capable to pack bags like I do."

"Finn's a blabber." Logan offered dismissively, "I knew you'd pass the cross-examination with flying colors."

"You made me pick sides." Colin accused watching his friend pack another clothing item into a bag. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Camping," Logan responded to Colin's dismay. "In Vancouver Island."

"I hate camping." Colin announced, "I want it on the protocol that I'm only doing it for the sake of your broken heart."

"We're going surfing too!" Finn elaborated on the plan from his spot on the couch, "Hey, Logan, are we allowed to talk to Chelsea?"

Logan paused. Both Colin and Finn looked at him expectedly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, you can." He forced the lie out of his mouth, "she's your friend."

"Right." Colin's tongue clicked skeptically, "Just keep your name out of the conversation, and never mention it you."

"Exactly."

"Like that's possible." Colin threw his arms in the air, turning to Finn for backup, "back me up here."

"I'm not sure he wants to hear what I've got to say at the moment." Finn looked up from his phone looking a little queasy.

Colin suspected something happened.

The shrill of Logan's phone cut the staring contest between his two best friends.

Logan was glad for the distraction. He just wanted to forget about Chelsea altogether.

It seemed the only unconditional support he got was from his father. And that seriously unnerved him.

"I wouldn't get that if I was you," Finn warned.

Logan looked at his friend as if he grew yellow feathers before accepting the call.

"Logan Huntzberger."

"Something really really bad happened." Nearly panicked Finn stepped closer to Colin who eyed him suspiciously.

"What pictures?" Logan's heart skipped a beat.

Colin's eyes widened and ping-ponged from his Australian friend to the shell-shocked blonde holding the phone.

"No comment." Logan hurried to end the call.

Colin and Finn looked as helpless as he felt.

"I'm going to call my dad." He backed into the washroom slamming the door shut.

* * *

Mitchum Huntzberger picked up on the first ring. As if he was expecting the call.

"What do you need, Logan?" despite his choice of words his father's voice didn't sound stern, or annoyed - it was soft.

Like he already knew.

"You knew?" Logan closed his eyes leaning his head into the mirror.

"Yes, Chelsea called me. I was trying to stop this from circulating."

"I would have appreciated a warning."

"I was hoping it didn't come to this. They refused to sell me the negatives."

"God. This is a nightmare." Logan mumbled. He was really hoping for a nice quick and quiet divorce. This will become the talk of the town for years.

His father lack of response was sufficient. He thought the same thing.

"How bad is it?" he asked shakily, quite hoping his father will spare him.

He had already been losing sleeping imagining things, he didn't want to see real proof.

"It's very explicit."

Logan's stomach churned.

"Logan, what do you need?" His father voice repeated.

"I need to get out of the States."


	5. Chapter 5

So... you get two :)  
Quotes are in_ italics_ and credited at the end.

* * *

**January 2010**

Logan never cared for weddings. Nearly two years after the staggeringly public dismantling of his socially-appropriate marriage, he doubts he'd ever care for it again.

Even his own marriage was more a spur of the moment thing rather than a cohesive thought.

Maybe that explains some things.

He'd especially avoided the Hartford elite weddings where his reputation preceded him. They were only good for the high-quality alcohol which he intended to consume.

Living in London for the last few years definitely had its perks.

But here he is, clad in his perfectly fitted tuxedo, serving his best man duties for his crazy best friend.

Braving the whispers re-capping the humiliating tumble down of his divorce. As for the first time, both he and his estranged wife are in the same room.

"Shake it off." Honor pinched his arm when brother and sister spied his ex-wife at the reception. "It was expected she'd be here. Solo by the way."

He learned from Colin that she somehow ended up involved in Finn's Pyramid project after all.

Lorelai must have been extremely convincing.

Not that he wanted to know. He hadn't seen or spoken to Chelsea since that final day at the lawyers. He didn't intend to start now either. He had nothing nice to say.

"This venue is so fabulous!" Honor stated by his side, "You say Finn owns this place?"

Logan chuckled to himself. Grateful for his sister playing his plus one for the evening. At times Honor is unaware of how often she channels their mother. Logan is not brave enough to ever call her on in.

But she's right.

Colin may still call it the 'dump' when it comes up in conversation. But, nine months later, the Pyramid center's interior hall looked nothing the decaying pitch dark dump they first visited.

The main hall's feature center was a dramatic dark blue ceiling lit like the night sky in thousand led-lights. No trace of the commercial fluorescent light. The walls were covered with lush patterns and fabrics, adding additional warmth.

The lower levels hosted three auditoriums, a bunch of smaller estranged rooms, workshop rooms, rent-able working spaces, second-hand shops, and a café'. The upper levels had been converted into boutique guest-rooms and spa which, Lorelai, Finn's business partner managed.

"Logan." a pepped-up Lorelai tapped his shoulder. For the night she's playing wedding coordinator. "You're up soon for the speech. Play nice for the photographer she says you've been dodging picture-ops all night."

Honor laughed beside him, "He hates having his picture taken."

"Well, I don't see why. Logan Huntzberger has a smile that lights up a goddamn room." Lorelai winked, then used a badly executed British accent to wish him "Good luck, Darling".

Logan never quite understood if flirting with him was intentional or just her way.

Never the less, he started to like the bubbly woman. Finn seemed to strike gold in this business partnership they were obviously on the same wavelength.

* * *

_Clink clink clink._

The telling sound of silverware on glass lulled the party people's conversations to a stop, the sea of eyes turned to the groomsmen.

Logan scanned the room carefully. Reluctant. Collin quickly set down the cutlery and re-filled their wine glasses, urging Logan to speak. He put on his best cheery face.

"It's a tradition for the best man to congratulate the bride and groom. And well… I draw short."

He half chuckled trying to break the ice.

"Colin and I have thousands of embarrassing storied about Finn that I intended to share with you today." Logan paused for dramatic effect, "But Kim begged I won't."

Colin 'boo' ed beside him scoring some laughs and wolf-whistles from their LDB fellows.

Kim, warped in Finn's arms, pressed her hands together to sign 'thank you'.

"Instead," He started thoughtfully, pausing momentarily to bite his inner cheek, "I'm going to share something from my own experience with love."

His words seemed to send the crowd into a tense silence. Some uneasily moved in their chairs.

Colin shoots him a worried looked. Finn's face paled slightly.

Logan's experience with love was notorious.

The quick blink of the camera caught his attention.

His eyes meet Chelsea's who stood near the photographer. Both oddly dressed in glitter.

He quickly looked away.

"_When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible*." _Logan raised his glass, "I won't waste anymore of your time; to Finn and Kim!"

"To Finn and Kim!" Collin quickly echoed his toast, pattering his shoulder relieved.

* * *

Rory truly loved weddings.

To Rory Gilmore, who inherited her love for snow-globes from her eccentric mother, it was like looking into a bubble of happiness. Weddings made everyone happy.

Ever since Rory was little all she ever wanted was to capture happiness. But happy moments are so elusive. Rory was determined to freeze them.

Her father bought her first camera. A simple film camera you had to wind-up for the next picture. It was hands down, the best gift he'd ever given her.

Ever since a camera was never out of arm's reach. Her 'third eye.'

Her mother scored her the gig for the Morgan-Pearson event. How she convinced her business partner to book her daughter, who lived in the pacific northwest, as his wedding photographer was beyond her.

Her mother had her ways.

Besides her love for weddings, Rory was fascinated with capturing smiles. Freelancing as a wedding photographer, she managed to kill two birds at once.

Because people always smiled at weddings.

Expect for this one groomsman.

* * *

"'_When Harry met Sally_', really?"

"I was wondering if anyone will call me on that," Logan smirked into the scotch he has been nursing.

"It's a classic. Someone was surely bound to notice."

"You're the first one. Bravo." He commended drily and raised a toast in her direction, only to be momentarily blinded by flash firing in his face.

"Finally! one with a smile." The huge 'Cannon' revealed the photographer's face. "It's been my night's mission to snap the sulky groomsman's smile. Mission accomplished!"

His unpleased expression returned. "Don't do that."

"Sorry. it's specified in the contract 'one smiling best man picture'." She responded playfully. "Besides I was especially told to watch out for the blonde with the smile that light up the room."

Logan laughed, "Who told you that?"

Rory lowered her camera again, incredibly satisfied with capturing a laugh and a genuine smile from the tuxedo-clad man.

"My mother." stated simply gesturing in her direction, "She's right over there."

"You're Lorelai's daughter? Stop taking my picture." The blond man was snappy about his picture being taken.

He seemed to know her mother, and obviously, her existence never came up.

"It's the babyface. She had me young. I'm Rory." She offered her hand.

"Grumpy best man. So, Rory, Watcha drinkin'? Rum or whiskey?" he indicated towards the barman.

"Just water. I don't drink on the job."

"But you show up dressed like this for the job?" he asked teasingly eyeing her sparkly dress and flats ensemble.

"It's a wedding, I try to blend in." Rory carefully sipped her water.

"That's a hook-up outfit." He raised his eyebrow at her. "What about after the job?"

"I don't think that's a stellar idea." The blue-eyed photographer picked up her camera. How come she always ended up in situations like this?

"That's not possible I only have stellar ideas."

She couldn't help but smile at his confidence, "My mother taught me to stay away from troubles."

"Do you always listen to your mother?"

He didn't practically trust Lorelai to shy from trouble. She went into business with Finn.

"Only when she's right." Rory lied.

She never listened to her mother when it comes to men. Although she could afterward admit that her mother's instincts were never off the mark.

"Besides, my glittery twin, whom you've been avoiding all night – might have something to say about that."

"Noticed that, didn't ya?" he swirled the liquor in his tumbler, "Trust me, she lost her right to say anything."

The photographer looked at him as if waiting for further explanation.

"That's my ex-wife."

"Irreconcilable differences?"

"Something like that." Logan bites the inside of his cheek and cocked his head**_. _**

"Well, she looks like she's ready to talk. Maybe you should."

"I'd rather talk to you." He flirty deflected.

"Well, here she comes." Rory adjusted her camera lens and clicked another picture of him.

"I think you should be nice after that public jibe."

* * *

"Did I wake you?"

"No Logan. Of course you didn't." the British accent sighed sarcastically on the other side of the phone. "It's only 2:30 a.m."

"Sorry, I forgot about the time difference."

London was his safe-hideaway granted by his father. An ironic turn of events, because to fresh-out-of-college Logan London was anything but haven.

"How can you forget about the time difference when you live here." He heard a faint shuffle of sheets on the other side of the phone. Bobbi was getting out of bed.

"You don't sound asleep. Why are you whispering?" Logan tilted the amber drink in his tumbler.

His marketing specialist remained silent.

"Are you with someone?"

She sighed her admission, "Logan, what do you want me to say?"

"The truth. Obviously." He started at the eastern coast night-sky from Honor's porch. For some reason, he couldn't hide his disappointment. It surprised him he cared at all.

"It's not like we're…" she finally settled on "Anything."

Although he suspected she hoped it'll be more than just companionship, Bobbi repeatedly ended up in his bed. He'd give her his secret thoughts, glimpse of his heartbreak, but nothing more.

He landed in London straight into the comfort of her bed after the breakdown of his marriage.

He couldn't help it at the time. Against his better judgment and much to his father dismay.

To be honest, he was looking for his old self again, and she was just there. One of the few people who knew him before his world turned 180 degrees.

"I know we're not." Logan bit his lip, he was really a heart-stamping cad when it came to Bobbi, "I saw Chelsea. At the wedding."

"Is she out of the doghouse?" The blonde asked dryly.

He could imagine her twisting her long locks on her finger waiting on his answer.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah." He said softly, "Just because I know I'll never feel the same, doesn't mean I love her anymore."

"God, I hope you didn't tell her that."

Maybe he is a heart-stamping cad when it comes to Chelsea, too. But she started it.

"So casually cruel in the name of being honest."** Bobbi posh accent cut through his musing.

Logan realized his words seemed to hit home with the other blonde too.

* * *

*from the movie 'When Harry Met Sally'.  
**Line is taken from Taylor Swift's 'All too well"


	6. Chapter 6

Make sure you don't miss chapter 5 :)

* * *

**March 2011**

Rory looked at the Seattle skyline sprawled out The Nest's of top to floor windows. The ferries wheel on the waterfront shone brightly along the rest of Seattle downtown.

She wished she'd come with her camera. Nighttime photography was her weakest skill.

But the camera didn't fit in her small purse. The one that went best with her smart black pants and sparkly spaghetti top. Perfect camouflage for the Thompson Hotel setting.

Sparkles made Rory Gilmore feel lavish.

Rory played with her key-card and nursed her third martini slowly. Debating with herself when would it be appropriate to call it a night and go home in a dignified manner. That the train left the station about an hour ago she came to a resonating conclusion.

The clock was nearing at 10 p.m.

Minute by minute it was becoming quite clear that Jason was not late. He wasn't coming.

Which was actually extremely unusual. For the last year, Jason never missed an opportunity to wine and dine her. She was slightly in awe how he managed to manipulate his time (and his wife) just to see her.

Their meeting at the Thompson's were her favorite.

"How are we doing here?" the bartender words cut through her fogged mind.

During her wait, she managed to check her e-mail on her brand-new smartphone, scribble some ideas to run by Ben tomorrow, answer inquiries about her availability for upcoming weddings and send her mother multiple phone-paparazzi pictures of the bartender with the silky-smooth hair.

"Just peachy."

He didn't even text.

Maybe she should have accepted Niall's invitation to Monday trivia night after all. Maybe socializing in the workplace wasn't such a bad 'no-no' after all.

"Peach Vodka shot it is then." He poured them both a small serving. "I hate to see pretty girls drink alone."

Rory accepted the drink. Might as well make a night of it.

Jason was paying for the room's tab anyway.

The bartender busied himself making a pink cocktail and pouring a portion bourbon. The expensive kind. She recognized the label.

He grandfather saved the same bottle in his alcohol cart and only served to his closest college friends. It was according to her grandfather a 'Yale drink'.

That set her curiosity on fire.

"Who's drinking that?" She asked.

"The gentleman over there." He nodded at a couple occupying a table in the far corner. "That date is going nowhere."

She spied as the brunette woman excuse herself to the washrooms. She wore a classic black little dress and looked around her age.

The blonde-haired man glanced at the bar to check on his incoming drink. Then he fished his phone typing furiously. He looked impatient.

She recognized him.

"Can you make me one of those?" She asked as the waitress collected the two glasses carrying them aways in her tray.

The bartender reached for the Gin bottle.

"The bourbon." She clarified, discretely observing the lone man who seemed to be texting.

A glass full in her hand she made a beeline for the corner.

* * *

"Grumpy best man."

The blonde man's head snapped up from his phone surprised at the interruption. Rory swiftly filled the chair the brunette occupied.

"Excuse me. What are you doing?"

"I've been watching you from the bar. You looked like you needed saving." She plastered her best-animated smile.

"I'm f.." he went to protest but Gilmores are known for their quick rhythm for a reason.

"She's going to be back soon, so thank me later." She clinked their glasses together just a minute before the brunette returned to the table.

"I see we have a guest." The brunette looked for an explanation, "Logan?"

"Oh, HI! I'm so sorry! I'm in your seat." Rory smiled broadly at the brunette making a fuss of vaccinating the seat. "I'm Rory. We went to Yale together. I just had to say 'Hi' before I left. Excellent choice of a drink by the way."

It was only half a lie. That cocktail did look good.

"Umm.. thanks," the brunette didn't bother to introduce herself as she reclaimed her seat.

Rory didn't think she would. At least she caught his name this time.

"Logan and I were just reminiscing Finn's wedding. Always good times with Finn." Rory kept talking, the brunette intentionally avoided her sipping on her drink.

Logan just smirked masking his confusion.

"Anyways, I'll leave you to it. Logan. it was to nice to see you again." She leaned to friendly kiss his cheek before gesturing to the bar. "I'm only a half a Kropog away."

The bartender shook his head at her when she reclaimed her place at the stool.

"It's public service to save people from dead-end dates." She retorted and took a careful sip of the bourbon.

She bet the pink cocktail tasted much better.

* * *

"I actually don't know if I should thank you for rescuing me from bad date claws or hate you for effectively ruining my reputation."

His voice startled her out of her wishful staring at the Ferris wheel.

Rory was trying to decide on which filter and what technic she should use to capture the lights so they wouldn't smudge.

"I accept checks, cash or magic beans." Rory brushed her bangs out of her eyes, turning to look at the brown-eyed man who took the stool to her left. "What was wrong with her?"

"My mother would have loved her." He smirked, eyeing her neglected drink, "Not a huge Marker's Mark fan are you?"

"Nope. All yours." Rory pushed the glass in his direction, her face twisted in obvious disdain, "It's expensive, might as well not go to waste."

"So what's your poison?" he cocked his head at her.

"How come every time we meet…" She started but trailed off mid-sentence at his confused face. Instead, she signaled the bartender for the usual drink. "He knows."

"So we went to Yale together?" He asked skeptically.

"Class of 2007. Go Bulldogs!" she mockingly cheered.

"Did I sleep with you?" he seemed to calculate back and found the time frame fitting.

"No. That's insulting." Rory said flatly.

She covered her room key with her hand as if it screamed shame.

"Sorry." He smiled sheepishly, "considering my Yale days it's a legitimate question."

"How very promiscuous of you." Rory offered dryly.

"So I never slept with you but we've before at Finn's wedding. What a riddle." He concluded trying to connect the dots. "What brings you to Seattle?"

Rory paused. She was sure he'd seen her keycard. She admitted her Yale connection. It was safe to assume he concluded she was visiting.

She wondered whether she should correct his impression?

"Work." She finally settled on her ambiguous answer. Every lie has some truth in it.

* * *

"What happened to the good coffee?" A frustrated Rory questioned out loud.

They couldn't have run out. Today, especially, wasn't a day could carry out without an intense double dose.

But it seemed luck wasn't on her side this morning.

She woke up disorientated with her phone blasting numerous phone calls from Shiri. Rory unintentionally slept in which she never does. This certainly never happened with Jason.

The last time Rory slept in she hit a deer on her way to school and failed a test.

She blamed alcohol and last night's other activities. Another addition to her growing list of things 'I shall never tell my mother'.

Although, if she would slightly alternate some truth her mother might get the kick out of it. She could totally avoid the whole getting stood up by a married man part.

The married man part especially wouldn't go down well with Lorelai. Rory learned some lessons.

While she rode the elevator the ten floors down to the Thompson's lobby, Kate's text beeped on her device.

"WHERE ARE YOU? Ben is completely freaking out."

Looking at herself in the mirror of the Thompson's elevator, Rory realized she couldn't possibly walk into work dressed like this. No matter how business appropriated her pants looked, the sparkly tank top didn't cut it.

Yesterday Ben has especially asked they come in 'dressed to the nines'. She didn't know what it meant in Ben's book, she didn't think the guy owned a pressed shirt.

Considering she was already terribly late, Rory realized Zara was her only savior. She rushed to buy the first appropriate cover-up she could find.

"Oh Rory, good you're here." Shiri's perfect curls burst into the break room with blue-haired Kate closely in toe. "Ben's looking for you."

"When did we run out of the good coffee?" Rory voiced her concern to their office manager. "Why is your hair blue?"

"Never mind that." Kate's blue hair locks danced as she dismissed her friend, "Are you wearing last night's clothes?"

"No." Rory lied quickly. "Blue hair?"

"You don't have your camera, and your blazer's tag showing." Kate challenged her. "Shiri needed a volunteer."

Their office manager was attending beauty school. It got them free nails, occasional hair-dos.

"Is Ben's freaking out about your blue hair on his 'dress to the nines' day?" Rory settled for the less-good coffee and opened in a search after something sharp to cut off the tag hanging from her new blazer.

"He was," Kate smirked. "Then you outdid me. He kept cleaning his glasses."

"He's with CEO is in the 'fish tank'. You missed staff." Shiri gestured towards Ben's neighboring office.

Rory felt the blush creeping up her collarbone, today out of all days.

"You have bed-hair too!" Kate recalled, "Oh my god, tell me you didn't! I thought you stopped seeing that prick."

"I didn't." Rory quickly caved under Kate's scolding glare. "I swear."

Her attention torn between fixing her hair to spying out of the break room.

"Who is he then?" Kate looked skeptical. Shiri looked intrigued.

Both were waiting for more details Rory wasn't about to disclose. She quickly changed the subject.

"Should I go in there?"

The fish tank windows had their blinds down. She didn't even know they had blinds.

* * *

Ben rolled the curtains down effectively blocking the room from prying eyes.

"Priscilla told me to invite you to dinner tonight."

Logan reacquainted himself with his old office. The thin layer of dust on the desk indicated nothing much changed here since he left.

"Count me in. Haven't seen your girls in forever. How's she?" Logan asked, a long-abandoned golf ball easily finding his way into his palm.

"She's good. Miella is so big now."

"I bet she is." Logan smiled, "The team looks great. It's good to finally match faces to names."

Ben nodded distractedly, "I'll continue to introduce you later. I need to run something by you first."

"Shoot." Logan half sat on his old desk looking at his friend.

His tailored slacks rode up to reveal the goofy socks Honor bought him.

"Do you like it in London?" Ben asked carefully, his hands rubbing on his jeans nervously as he took the seat in front of the desk.

"The city is great. Job is more interesting than I first thought." Logan answered easily wondering where this is going. Ben looked too nervous for just small talk. "Why?"

Logan waited for the taller man to continue.

"I was glad to take the helm and stir ship for a while. Honestly. But I've got to ask, it's been three years, how permanent is the London situation?"

"I don't know, why?"

"When we started Current, a big part of it was us working on it together. Both equally invested." Ben took off his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt, not meeting his friend's eye.

Logan's pose tensed.

Ben knew his friend good enough to tell he's about to disagree.

"I realize you did what you had to do to…" Ben quickly continued, "but she's just another girl, you need to move on and stop hiding out in London."

"I'm not hiding in London. I work in London." Logan pointed out agitated.

Both men stared at each other for a minute.

Ben sighed, arguing with Logan was pointless. The blonde was a sore loser.

"Priscilla is pregnant. We were gonna tell you tonight."

Logan's face beamed at his friend's news "That's great Ben!"

"I want to take maternity leave and three months off after the baby's born." Ben laid back in his chair.

"Of course. Sure." Logan agreed happily. "Whatever you need."

"I need you to move back to the U.S and run Current."

"It's not that simple."

"It is simple. Current needs you now. My family needs me. I owe it to Priscilla." Ben insisted, "You too."

Both men fell into a pregnant silence. Logan hand resuscitated the stress ball.

"She's due in September. How you work it out with Mitchum is up to you."

A tentative knock interrupted before Logan could figure out his response.

"Come in." Drained looking Ben hurried to capitalize his sudden his knock out.

"Hi Ben, Shiri said you wanted me to see me when I came in." Rory's trained eye first picked up on the tensed scene between the two men, "Did I interpret something?"

"Yes." "No." both males said simultaneously.

"I can come back later." She hurried to say, her eyes ping-ponged between her boss and her… _boss_.

Rory simultaneously blushed and paled. Realizing who was the brown-eyed man.

"That's not necessary." Ben waved dismissively but remained slouched on the chair, "I don't think you ever met. Logan, this is Rory, she's our visual storyteller."

"Oh, we've met."


	7. Chapter 7

Hi all!  
I have no idea how many people are actually still reading this. Those of you who are regularly reviewing, just know that you make my day! I love it when you share your thoughts on this. I truly hope I manage to convey at least half of how this plays in my imagination. I'm waiting for your two cents nearly as much as you're waiting for an update (possibly more). I've added 'xx' for page breaks per request, so I hope the formatting is more reader friendly now.

I know it must feel like I'm dragging the plot, but I'm sowing seeds for what comes next. If you're confused about Bobbi, it's because you missed chapter 5.  
Anyways, this is next.

* * *

**April 2011**

"What a twat." Mike spat gesturing at the TV's screen.

It was game night at the O'Reilly. Real Madrid versus Barcelona. The image on the screen focused on Cristiano Ronaldo.

"What a Narcissistic bastard! It's a team game." Will supported the short man. "Can't stand the guy, all me me me."

Logan smiled at his English fellows' conversation. He had long come to know Mike hated the Portuguese athlete with a burning passion. Will did criticism for a living; it was just a natural continuum of his day job. Nevertheless, it was the only subject they both wholeheartedly agreed on.

Logan was never a huge football fan, he wasn't terribly interested in soccer either.

It was just something he did while in England.

Ben was right. From the get-go, staying in London was never the intention. It was just a mean.

He never thought he'd end up staying this long.

"Well in the end he delivers." Logan pointed out. "He scores."

"pfft," Mike snorted in contempt.

"Team player my ass." Will groaned in disagreement.

"All I'm saying is that he makes the team win." Logan shrugged, "Sound like a team player to me."

"You can take the man out of America but you can't take America out of the man." Will disappointingly shook his head at Logan. "I thought we managed to straighten you out."

"You capitalist pig." Mike contributed his two cents.

"Exactly!" Will snapped his fingers. "All he thinks about is himself and his money. The guy has a kid and no one knows who the mother is. But the rumor is that he didn't want to be sued for child support."

"Smart man," Logan concluded peering at Bobbi.

Will stuffed some peanuts into his mouth, "Either he used a surrogate or he paid her off to disappear."

Bobbi rolled her eyes at them and pushed her long blonde locks her behind her ear.

Her brand-new diamond ring shone in the darkly lit establishment.

Her engagement news blindsided him. It wasn't what he expected to find when he came back from Seattle.

Things were shifting and Logan wasn't sure how he felt about it.

The uncanny thing is, he should have learned his lesson not to be caught oblivious when the tables are turning on him.

"Why and how do you know that?" Mike gestured with his hands in disbelieve.

"Claire reads the tabloids." Will shrugged tapping his empty pint on the table. "I need another, Anyone?"

"Claire, ha?" Mike pushed the empty pint his way. "Like you have to ask."

"Me too." Bobbi waved her glass asking for her usual. "Get me a cider."

Logan looked back down at his beer.

Three years in and he still couldn't keep up with the British drinking habits.

**xx**

* * *

Bobbi stepped out the back exit. It was considerably dark and the air smelled like burnt cooking oil. She ignored the slight wave of nausea.

The only give away for his location was the red end of the cigarette.

"Are you stress smoking again? Put that out. You'll ruin your pearly white teeth."

Logan shrugged. His mom was a stress smoker, it runs in the family.

"I bummed it on my way out. This is shit." He agreed shortly offering her the stick. "Want one?"

She waved his offer off.

"Am I in the doghouse now?" Bobbi's hands settled on her hips, "You don't get to be mad at me for moving on, Logan."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not upset." He spat his words dubbing the end of the cigarette under his perfectly polished shoe. "I do appreciate the warning by the way."

She leaned on the brick wall beside him shuffling her boots on the ground.

"Are you really going to marry Mr. Darcy?" he asked finally.

"Look at you! Still getting your British pop-culture reference all wrong." She nagged his ribs. "If I wanted a Mr. Darcy - I'd marry you."

"Just so you know, I was told I make a terrific Husband."

"Who told you that? Your celebrated lesbian ex-wife?" She retorted. "I don't think that qualifies a reliable reference."

"Ouch, Bobbi."

"It's been three years, Logan. I'm not gonna cuddle you anymore."

Logan looked thoughtful. "Do you think we could have worked for real?"

"What brought this on?" Bobbi didn't miss a beat.

"Just something Ben said."

"No." She wrapped her light coat tighter around her body, "No matter how off the wall our chemistry is. I was just a stand-in. It took me many-many therapy sessions to come to terms with that."

Her boots shuffled again.

"He's got a shitty sense of dress and he reckons pudding is a decent dessert."

"Well, it's not you who has to like him." So much for not being upset. "He's reliable Logan. He doesn't drift through life. I know where his head at."

"You know where my head's at."

Bobbi cocked her head at him. This isn't the state of mind she expected to find him in when she followed him out. "I'm not sure anymore."

"Ben wants me to come back to run Current." He said softly.

"Does Mitchum know?"

Logan nodded, "He was dying to get me to New York office for some time now. Help his cause."

"It's about time." Bobbi agreed. "You miss it."

Logan gave her a small smile.

"Come on then. You owe Mike a drink." She pushed away from the wall tagging his arm. "Before you abandon us to America again."

He pulled her hand back a little, Bobbi looked back at him quizzing.

"I think I want it too; you know." He admitted. "One day."

She looked at him confused.

"Someone who loves more than the idea me." He paused. "A family."

"Oh darling." Bobbie's arms fondled him close. He let her. Burying his head in the nape of her neck and breathing in her scent out of habit. "You're such a beautiful mess of a man."

**xx**

* * *

"Aww, she's so pretty. It's like a fairy tale." Lorelai cooed on the phone. "I wish I could marry a prince."

Rory and her fellow wedding lover mother were glued to the T.V in their respective homes. She hummed her agreement chewing on her salted caramel popcorn.

April 29th, 2011 - Kate and William were tying the knot.

"I wish I was there. Waving from the sidelines. I'd camp in the street for that front-line spot." Rory could trace a hint of envy in her mother's voice. Lorelai loved festivals. From the looks of it, the city of London was in full celebrating bloom.

"Camping is a sport, mum."

"We have to offer your photography services for the next royal wedding. Mommy wants a front seat when the Ginge puts a ring on it." Lorelai blabbed ignoring her. "You should advertise better."

"I don't think it's that simple to get on the royal family's list of suppliers."

"You never know until you try. What's your calendar look like?"

"I'm actually booked every weekend until the end of September."

Rory sprawled further on her comfortable couch. It was the most expensive item in her apartment and the only one she paid full price for.

"I cross my fingers hoping no Bridezilla will eat you so I can see you in person sometime."

"I'll be home for Thanks Giving Mom."

"You better! I know you prefer your fancy-ass apartment your dad bought you. Just remember that I, your mother, I gave you life." Lorelai said dramatically, "So that trumps anything he does."

"He didn't buy it for me. He bought it and I pay the rent."

Rory blissfully emitted, because she preferred to ignore, how he re-transfer her rent into a trust fund.

"Semantics." Rory could imagine her mother rolling her eyes, "I'm booking you for the Thanks Giving special at the Pyramid. I want the magnets you print pictures on."

"Mom, that's six months away."

"Didn't your grandmother tell you? 'you can never be too prepared'" Lorelai mimicked Emily Gilmore to a tee.

"Fine." Rory changed the subject back to the Royal wedding, "Wills looks so nervous."

"I hear marriage is terrifying. I wouldn't know."

Rory used to wonder how their life would be like if she did marry Max, a man who bought her a thousand daisies, and wasn't hang up on her dad. Lorelai Gilmore never married.

"Oh! did I tell you?" Lorelai continued excitedly, "Finn's friend, Logan, will bring me a bunch of royal wedding memorabilia when he come to town next."

"Why?" Rory tensed at the mention of his name, glad her mother couldn't see.

"Because he lives in London and I asked him." Her mother said as if this was the most conventional request.

Rory wished he'd stay there.

She had already concluded Logan turned out to be a poor choice for a mindless one-night stand.

Ben didn't probe, but he wasn't stupid. She didn't think he bought into the whole 'we met at Yale' tall-tale. She suspected Logan had his own completely selfish reasons to effectively remove the whole awkward situation.

"I'm sure I can convince Finn to ask him for another set if you're interested."

"No. That's okay."

"You remember him, right? The blonde dripping with finesse. He was at the wedding. Out of Finn's friends I like him best. He thinks I'm hilarious."

"Does he now?" Rory played along hiding her discomfort.

Logan was a flirt. She could tell from first-hand experience.

However, knowing he made her forty-something mother drool…. That was beyond disturbing.

She doubted her mother would be singing his praises, if she knew he dripped his finesse all over her daughter.

"Why aren't you skimpy on words today. Don't rain on Mommy's parade."

"Sorry mom."

She could handle him being her boss. She was an adult and this wasn't high-school.

**xx**

* * *

**May 2011**

"I've signed up for a web design course." Kate buzzed with excitement "and the best part, I'm not even paying for it!"

"Did you win a scholarship or something?" Shiri checked her lipstick in the small mirror she carried with her anywhere.

"Logan said Current will take care of it." Kate beamed, "I'm telling you, the universe is smiling at me. There's something in the air. It even smells fresher!"

Rory carefully broke the chocolate muffin to three and handed a piece to Shiri. They were taking their ten past ten coffee-break in the building's shared outdoor space.

"It's called Spring, Kate."

"No, it's not that. It's something else." Kate protested.

"It's Logan's aftershave." Shiri snickered, "It just lingers in the office."

"Don't be ridiculous." Rory indulged on her part of the muffin, "Kate, do you want your muffin?"

"No, you can have it." Kate's blue hair danced around her face, "It is silly, but I think you're right. Logan, he just charges energy into things."

"The man has so much energy he doesn't sleep." Shiri sighed frustrated, "I have at least twenty E-mails from him when I open my inbox each morning."

Rory chewed slowly on Kate's muffin.

Things were vastly shifting in Current. She couldn't deny that and couldn't help but feel out of her comfort zone.

Her pitches were answered now with "yes" or "no" instead of Ben's famous "let me think about it." Especially if Logan was in the room. The two men seemed to communicate by reading each other's minds.

This newfound dynamic left her disoriented.

It only added when a week ago, Ben gave her a promotion and a raise. She thought it was suspicious, but she couldn't complain.

Two days later, she was already in charge of a handful of freelancers.

"That's how fast-paced Current it used to be when I started here. I love that." Kate grinned.

Rory realized she zoned out of nearly the entire conversation.

"Whatever. That man is in dire need of a haircut." Shiri's fingers itched suggestively, "Can you imagine how soft his hair must be?"

Rory shuddered involuntarily. The memory of her fingers intervened in his hair popped into her mind.

Kate eyed at her suspiciously.

"It's chilly, I'm going back to work."

**xx**

* * *

"I'm on a no-men diet. Kate. Go bug someone else."

"You can't be. I have two kids who think I'm a unicorn at home." Kate pointed to her blue-hair which now had additional touches of pink, "I live through you and your dating stories. You can't cut me off. I miss dating."

"Let's switch then." Rory clicked on another key on her keyboard.

She meant it. She felt like a failure. Weekend after weekend when she snapped pretty pictures of happy couples she wondered if she's be forever behind the camera.

Everyone she knew was already coupled up if not already having kids. She didn't take pride in the fact that two of her longest relationships were with married men either.

This isn't how she imagined herself at 27.

"You do have the best stories." Nicole, who shared their office, pipped up from behind her monitor. "You should start a blog."

"I don't have good dating stories. I have bad dates." Rory corrected.

Most of the men she dated in the past year were like ill-fitting shoes. They looked great but made your feet hurt after a while.

"That's because you have poor man choices. I found a way to foolproof that." Kate offered "I've signed you up to O.K Cupid. I am your newly self-appointed account manager."

Rory spun her chair to look at her blue-haired friend, "You didn't."

"I totally did." Kate pointed at the profile open on the screen, "What do you think of Steven?"

"Yummy." Nicole commented appreciatively.

"No-men diet, Kate." Rory repeated.

Kate cocked her head teasing, "I have strong pieces of evidence that you had some pretty exciting trysts lately. I'm still very patiently waiting on the gory details."

There was no way she'd be opening that can of worms.

"There are no gory details. You know how it is, 'Wham! Bam! Thank you, Ma'am'." Rory responded in a flippant tone.

"Hope you're satisfied." Logan's voice finished.

Suddenly he was standing in the door unannounced.

Rory skin turned hot, nearly scarlet. She was mortified.

He was just riding on the Dean Martin reference, right? The man quotes movies for his best man speech.

The hint of a twinkle in his eyes made her unsure.

She wondered how much did he exactly hear.

Kate's expression reflected in her desktop screen. Full-blown, sheer, glee. Nicole almost swooned.

"I'm so glad you and your sense of humor are back." Kate beamed at Logan.

"Ladies." Logan winked at Kate. He made a point to catch each girl's eye before nodding at the screen, "I'd go out with him. He looks like he's got the moves."

He heard enough. Rory was just going to ignore him.

"See!" Kate's grin spread wider, "I'm totally messaging him!"

"No, Kate, please don't." Rory pleaded.

"Sorry, it's done." Kate didn't look sorry at all.

"Rory," her blue eyes instinctively snapped to his face at the mention of her name. "I need to go over the new candidates with you. Come in when you're free."

Rory nodded curtly. Not missing his subtle dig.

Seriously, couldn't he just send an E-mail?


	8. Chapter 8

_My gift to you for the New Year :)  
I hope it helps relieve some of the suspense. Thank you for__ your kind reviews from the last time. I'm aware AU isn't everyone's cup of tea but it's nice to know some of you are enjoying this anyway. I hope this doesn't feel too out of character for either them._

* * *

**June 2011**

"Hurry up. We might catch them before they're getting on the bus!" Lorelai nudged her daughter to move faster.

Lorelai proudly rocked an official tour t-shirt. She actually bought two. One supposedly for Rory.

"Is this going to be Ireland all over again?" Rory asked. She didn't particularly felt like waiting hours on end just to get a glimpse at Bono. They already tried to stalk him before at the Clarence Hotel in Dublin and failed miserably.

"Don't frown, it gives you wrinkles. Ireland was awesome!"

Hurricane Lorelai Gilmore hit Current on the first Wednesday of June. She breezed in armed with an enormous pile of helium balloons, two large coffees and U2's 360 tour tickets for Saturday.

Her mother never did anything halfway.

"Fine. I give you an hour. I have to work tomorrow. Early start."

"It's Sunday. The day of rest. Ben doesn't look like a slave driver."

Rory somehow managed to sponge off some extra days off to play tourist with her mother. She kinda felt guilty about it, knowing Ben wasn't pleased with her.

He always turned grouchy when Logan went MIA.

"At my other job. The Chen and Wong wedding, remember? They want sunrise photo shoots."

"No way I'm getting up that early." Lorelai strained her neck to see if there's any activity at the back door of the arena. "I retract my previous offer to act as a photographer assistant for the day."

Rory wasn't surprised.

"I'll just go shopping. Get a Kurt Cobain T-shirt for Luke."

One that he would never wear.

Rory was glad they maxed out her mother's impromptu visit. They hit all the possible film locations in town, sampled every Starbucks (and independent coffee shop) around town.

They even walked the entire 'Grey's Anatomy' fan tour.

At nights when Lorelai didn't insist they do 'what Rory does at night' or that they'd go see a 'real Seattle grunge' they mocked Meg Ryan's haircut in 'Sleepless in Seattle'.

Rory missed her mom. It was the main downsize to moving across the country.

She didn't take her to 'The Nest'. Too many memories of her indiscretion with Jason. And Logan.

Rory Gilmore couldn't handle completely falling off the pedestal.

**Xx**

* * *

"I can't believe we missed them! Twice!" Lorelai complained slamming the taxi door behind her. "I believe I'm cursed."

"Maybe third time's a charm." Rory tried to comfort her mother while punching her apartment building's code on the digital pad. "Ice cream?"

"Rocky Mountain with sprinkles and whipped cream?" Lorelai's eyes glinted at the prospect of the sugary treat, "Will Meg be joining us?"

Rory nodded, pressing for the 5th floor.

"I raised you well Kid. I think I like you living here."

"I like it too."

"Hold the door!" A man's voice called just as the doors were about to completely close.

"Oh! We have company!" Lorelai happily pressed the doors' button to stop them from closing on the man. "Quick, hottie or not hottie?"

"Mom," Rory warned lightly just before the doors revealed Logan Huntzberger and his carry-on.

This wasn't happening. The man was just everywhere.

Rory could tell he was just as surprised as her.

"14th, please." His voice sounded different. Hoarse. Like gravel.

"Logan!" Lorelai broke into a grin, glancing quickly at Rory. "Finn's friend Logan! Well isn't it my lucky day!"

Rory forgot they knew each other.

"How could this suddenly be your lucky day? Just a minute ago you were broken up about missing your 'Almost Famous' moment with Bono."

Sometimes she didn't understand her mother.

Lorelai shushed her. "Wait, don't you live in London? I love the Will & Kate mug by the way."

"You're welcome." He smiled lightly. Something was definitely up with his throat. "I live here now."

In the penthouse. Of course, he'd live in the penthouse.

Just when Rory was beginning to think the 5th floor won't come fast enough the elevator pinged and the doors opened.

"Com' on Mom, Meg Ryan is waiting." Rory started to push her mother out. "Night Logan."

"Stop pushing." Lorelai wasn't done, "Since when?"

"Rory will fill you in."

**Xx**

* * *

Rory liked to think in front of the coffee maker in the break room. The best ideas came when the aroma of beans dripped into the filter.

"I see you personalized your desk."

Logan had the most annoying habit of materializing out of thin air.

The balloons still hanged above her work station. Kate said her desk looked like it was taken from 'UP'. Nicole was ready to stab them with scissors because they stank the office.

Ben seemed more preoccupied with chopping Logan's head off to care. They've been at it since morning.

"They're pretty. It's a shame to throw them out." Rory decided she'd wait until they naturally lost their air.

"I take mine with one sugar."

She pulled another cup, loaded it with a spoonful of sugar then poured the brown liquid, "You should really have that throat checked out."

"Your mom thought it was sexy." He peered over the rim smirking, "Like Al Pachino."

Rory's eyes snapped to his face.

It was Monday. When exactly did Lorelai have any interaction with him between Saturday night's elevator accident and her flight early this morning?

"Please don't encourage her."

"You sound like Finn."

Rory didn't respond and stirred the cream into her coffee. She didn't want to continue _that_ conversation.

The halt in conversation stretched uncomfortably.

"Listen, Ben has been on my case because he's worried… " Logan scratched the hair at the back of his head. "I don't know what is he worried about anyway…"

"I don't follow."

"I don't want this to be awkward." His hands gestured between them.

"Ben knows?" Considering she already suspected he had, it shouldn't surprise her.

"Ben wasn't born yesterday. That's beside the point…" why was talking to this girl so flustering, "Look, can we just agree to be friends?"

"Friends?" Rory asked skeptically, the word lingering on her tongue. "Like when Harry met Sally?"

"Yes. Like when Harry met Sally." He chuckled and shook his head.

She'd never let him live that down.

"We can't be friends."

"Why not?"

"Men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way."**

If Marty, the nicest guy she ever met, couldn't stay her friend after she told him she didn't like him that way. No one could. It just didn't happen.

They weren't even colleagues. He was the one signing her paycheck.

Did she even want to be his friend?

"I think it's safe to say the sex part is out of the way."

Rory was still processing the fact they're having this conversation in the break room where anyone could come in any minute.

If she hadn't, maybe, she would dwell on why it felt like the door slammed in her face to hear him say that.

"What do you say? For Ben's sake?"

"For Ben's sake."

His smile brought out his dimples. The tension seemed to lift a little off his shoulders.

He had a terrific smile. She wished her camera was close by to capture it.

He sips his coffee, and she can tell his sore throat bothers him.

She should get herself back to her balloon decorated desk.

"You know how that movie ends, right?" She stopped at the door.

"They get married." He said easily, "You have nothing to worry about. I have no intention to ever get married again."

** Xx**

* * *

**August 2011**

Kate laid back on her elbows watching her kids play on the monkey bars. Rory was sunning beside her in her blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

It was a sunny day perfect for the annual company picnic.

"This is the part I don't miss about being pregnant, especially in August." Priscilla's lowered her self and her swollen stomach next to the graphic designer.

Kate smiled, "Oh yes. I don't miss it either."

"She's an active baby. I can't wait to meet her already." Priscilla fanned her face. "At the same time, I have no idea how we're gonna manage two girls. The beginning was awful with Miella."

"It's hard. But when they'll grow up, they'll be the cutest double act. See." Kate gestured at the monkey bars where her two boys were squealing at Logan who was hanged upside down.

Rory lifted her sunglasses and looked in the same direction.

She picked up her camera and fixed her zoom.

"Miella adores him. The other day she told me uncle Logan plays tea party better than me." Priscilla rolled her eyes, "She loves when he comes over. Ben's happy too, they went camping last weekend."

Kate snickered.

Rory remembered some vague camping conversation during lunch the other week.

This was part of what made Current a great place to work at. They were a small company and it felt like an extended family from the get-go. She guessed that something Ben and Priscilla was mostly responsible for.

"But you're not," Kate observed.

"Nothing really changed. Instead of jetting back and forth to California, he jets to New York every two weeks."

Rory busied herself reviewing the snaps she took earlier today. The conversation was turning into a full-on gossiping session she didn't wish to participate in. The sunlight has been perfect for the outdoors.

"Is he dating anyone now?" Kate inquired offering her Boss's wife to share a package of chips.

"According to Ben, no. Nothing serious anyway. And if you ask me, he prefers it that way. I think he's scared of a repeat. That girl was just bad news. She drove him crazy."

_Well, that explains his admission a few months back_. Rory thought.

They lulled into a comfortable silence.

"Hey Rory, do you do newborn photo-shoots too?" Priscilla turned to her.

Rory shook her head, "I mostly do weddings. Birthday parties. Small live music too, sometimes."

"I can totally persuade her to do it." Kate grinned.

"Blackmailing is not persuading, Kate."

"But it's effective."

Priscilla was just about to say something when Logan crushed next to them on the grass. His arm brushed against Rory's in his fall.

"I'm done." He panted at Kate, "You raised monsters. What are we gossiping about?"

Rory positioned her camera between them, buffering any accidental future contact.

"You lost your stamina." Kate only grinned at him, "Rory's date with Shane was the next topic I believe."

Rory sighed. Her friend was an evil woman.

"Well, how did it go?" Kate probed, "did he woo you?"

"Oh, it was a perfect day in Alki Beach and mini-golf." Logan snickered before Rory could formulate an answer that will get Kate off her back for at least a week. "All in the sexy leopard print heels she wears to the office."

"Oh, that's so romantic!" Kate had hearts in her eyes, "Oh, wait, mini-golf?"

Gilmore girls don't exercise. It's a rule.

"Shut up, Logan." Rory hit his arm forcefully. He played injured. "He said to dress casual."

"Sexy leopard print heel doesn't count as casual." Logan pointed out.

"It's 4 inches."

"He meant to say: 'wear sneakers'." She glared at him. He was infuriating.

"Well, he should have explicitly said sneakers."

"Wait, how do you know all that?" Priscilla made Logan look away cutting their banter.

Rory felt Kate's eyes burning on her again. She wished she'd just stop doing that.

"We're neighbors." He pulled out some grass with his left hand. "I found her rubbing her feet in the laundry room."

He also charmingly helped her carry her laundry basket up and listened to her moans about the shoes, sand and mini-golf.

Then he went and ratted out all the details to Kate.

What a lousy friend he was.

"Will you be seeing him again?" Kate questioned, "Putting the mini-golf incident aside. He sounds great. You liked the other dates."

"If I had ruled Ben out based on our third date, I'd never be in this situation now." Priscilla offered.

That was a fresh perspective to judge upon.

Rory didn't imagine herself having babies with Shane. Another con to the list. That is pretty much decided.

"Boy, you have a crazy-ass zoom on that thing. Can you send me a copy of that one?"

Rory turned to see Logan holding her camera in his hands.

His upside-down face sprawled on the digital screen. The edges of his blonde locks shining like a halo.

Rory felt almost violated. No one touched her camera.

"Sure," she coughed out, snatched her camera back and scrambled to her feet to hid her embarrassment. "I'm going to get a beer."

"Get me one too!" He called after her retreating back.

Priscilla and Kate remained silent.

"Logan," his eyes snapped back to his long-time friend's wife, "If this turns into another Bobbi, I swear…."

"Mind your own business, Priz."


	9. Chapter 9

_Okay so this is the new update. To be honest I'm a little nervous about it. Its been written and re-written so many times and edited until the very last minute. So really I hope this sits right. __  
Thanks for your wonderful comments, I really got a kick out your interpretations. Some I can't believe I didn't thought of myself :) Enjoy._

* * *

**October 2011**

"Chocolate?" Shiri trusted the fancy box of chocolates under his nose. "They're so good."

To make her point across, his savvy office manager popped a finely crafted piece of chocolate in her mouth. Logan shook his head. He couldn't stomach sweet first thing in the morning.

Was it actually morning? He wasn't sure what time zone his body was in. His flight back from New York was delayed and he ended up coming straight into the office. Barely two feet in the door, Shiri caught him in a trap of paperwork.

Logan realized he was tired just from looking at it.

The pen hovered in his hand, "What am I signing exactly?"

He was desperate for a fresh change of clothes. Something that didn't smell like an airplane. He must have a clean shirt somewhere in his office.

If not, he'll send Shiri. Or Nicole. Whoever is less likely to abuse his credit card.

He'll do it himself.

Logan was traveling light these days. Aside from his laptop and phone, there wasn't a necessity he couldn't buy on the go. Minimalism was refreshing.

"This is the down payment for the new web domain." The curly-haired woman shuffled the papers around, "These, I think, are the forms for the flash upgrade?"

He scribbled his name on the dotted line and Shiri's midnight black fingernails laid a fresh dotted line in front of him.

"That one is for…. the premium features in Photoshop." She read the title out loud and quickly pulled the paper away once he stamped it.

"The agreement terms and payment for the new remote server."

"Who approved that?"

"You did."

Right. Who else.

"And lastly, the budget for office supply." She laid out the last piece of paper.

He looked at amount quizzing.

"Ben signs it all the time." She defended.

Ben was on leave. Priscilla gave birth to their baby girl a few weeks ago, and Logan fathered everything on Ben's desk. From content to - as he came to know now - office supplies.

"Are fancy-ass chocolates included in our office supply budget?" Logan sprawled his well-practiced signature on the remaining pages.

"No. Some guy had them delivered for Rory. The flowers too. Aren't they pretty? She said I can keep them." How did he not noticed the enormous bouquet before? A colorful arrangement of red, yellow and purple. "Her birthday is coming up."

Chocolates and flowers. Tacky. This must-have cost some.

Right. "Anything else?"

"You need a haircut."

Hell would freeze over before he'd let her touch his hair.

"I need a clean shirt."

Xx

* * *

"Rory, some lady is here to see you," Shiri announced cautiously.

Rory dropped her pen glad for the unexpected disruption. Something with the wording wasn't right and neither she or Nicole could pinpoint what. The message was just messy. Perhaps rewriting the whole thing would be best.

"Me? Who?"

"She says it's a private." Shiri shrugged, "Her name is Miranda."

"Are you being sued?" Nicole wondered.

"No, I'm not being sued. Why would I be sued? I'm an outstanding citizen." Rory pushed out of the chair, "I'll be right back."

The flowers on Shiri's desk taunted her. Her love life was in shambles.

Jason started calling again.

Kate disapproved. Rory repeatedly insisted that their romance has run its course. She only caved in once. Then, he started sending all these gifts to the office.

She didn't know how to make him go away. Life was complicated enough without Jason.

A tall brunette stood by Shiri's desk, starting at the card accompanying the large bouquet. Her hair was tied in a perfect ponytail.

"Hi, I'm Rory," Rory smiled warmly offering her hand to the elegantly dressed women, "Nice to meet you.."

The smile was wiped off Rory's face with a forceful slap.

The smack rang loudly. Rory's ears filled with Shiri's sharp gasp. Or maybe it was her own.

Her ear roared from the force of the blow so bad it blocked the rustle rising behind her back. Her cheek burnt. She instinctively held it in her hand. Her eyes torn wide with surprise at the sudden turn of events.

"What the…" was the only thing Rory managed to prey out of her mouth.

She never met this woman in her life. Why would one even bother to show up here just to…

"My name's Miranda Grant." Unshed, stubborn tears filled in her eyes Miranda Grant's eyes. Rory could read some of the emotions the other's woman face contained. Anger. Humiliation. Betrayal. Hatred.

Jason's wife.

Rory should have thrown the card away.

"I wanted to see the slut who been sleeping with my husband." Despite all that, her voice didn't quiver.

Rory stuttered, her shocked mind still grasping the situation. She couldn't help but wish her mother was here to defend her actions as she did with Linsday's mom that time at town's square.

"I really hoped you weren't that pretty in person." Miranda Grant's voice cracked a little before she turned her back on her husband's mistress.

Everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Current's offices were all glass. She knew no one missed the unfolding drama.

"Rory," Shiri's voice echoed in her ears like it was miles away, "Rory.."

After what seemed like forever, but in reality, only mare seconds - Rory Gilmore turned to meet the office manager's sympathetic eyes. Her hand felt clammy.

"You're bleeding."

* * *

"This is going to sting a bit."

Rory flinched away as the wet pad touched her skin. She can't recall how she ended up sitting on Ben's couch with her blonde-haired boss kneeling before her playing doctor.

Nicole retrieved the first-aid kit and quickly retreated muttering something about blood. Rory would bet anyone ten thousand dollars that Nicole was on the phone relaying the play by play to Kate.

Kate would be sad she missed the action and furious at Rory.

Shiri appointed herself to scare off the curious crowed then disappeared with Logan's credit card to fetch a clean shirt. This was just excessive. Her shirt was just fine.

Despite his standoffish attitude, his touch was surprisingly gentle. As if his fingers re-discovered some long-lost expertise.

"That must have been one big diamond." His left hand held her chin as the other gently cleaned the remains of her blood. "It looks nasty, but no scars to worry about."

Rory Gilmore tried to avoid his eyes and focused on his rolled-up sleeves.

"Thanks for the pep-talk. I'll take up my pity party with someone else if that's okay with you."

"I've been in her shoes." He said coolly while rummaging through the first aid-kit, "my sympathy doesn't lay with you."

She guessed she deserved that. Rory pressed her lips together and looked down at her hands.

"You were there to see him that night at the Thompson." He let the sentence hang unfinished. As if he decided it wasn't worth probing on the other events that took place that night.

Her blue eyes shot up to meet his. His expression mirrored the one Lorelai wore when she caught her with Dean.

"Upscale hotel, discrete stuff. Excusable location. That is where I'd take my mistress. If I had one."

"It was over that night." Why did she felt compelled to explain?

"Look up," his left hand directed her face again to grant him better access to her wound. "Keep still."

He applied the liquid band-aid and cleaned the residuals with a q-tip he found in the first-aid kit.

"You're good at this." She oped for a change in topic. She felt shitty as it is without his underlined judgment.

He wasn't a saint either.

"Well, when you have a Finn." He offered her a small smile. He moved her bangs out of the way, admiring his handiwork briefly, "There. All done. You're still very pretty."

Rory looked like she was about to cry at his word choice.

She failed to comprehend what led her into falling into the habit of being the other woman. All the justifications of Dean being hers first didn't apply to Jason. Rory never even ridiculed her that he'd actually leave his wife. Jason was always someone else's. She didn't want him for herself.

"Rory, is there any other love life fallout I need to be aware of?"

_Why was he asking her that?_

Rory hurried to wipe the lone tear falling from her eye. She couldn't believe this was happening all over again.

"Please don't tell my mom."

"Keep it out of the office and we have a deal."

Xx

* * *

October 8th was a Saturday on a long weekend and her birthday.

Kate and Nicole decided they should celebrate with a bang to open her new year with better karma. According to Nicole, the best place to find good karma was at open mic night at the local pub.

Nicole was just fascinated with dating musicians. Rory was done kissing frogs.

"Make a wish!" Nicole chanted at lone candle decorating the small chocolate souffle.

Rory looked at the dancing flame. When she was younger Sookie always went all out on the birthday cakes.

This paled in comparison.

"Yes!" Kate cheered her on. "But don't tell anyone or it won't come true!"

Her mother taught her birthday wishes were meant for the grander things in life.

Rory closed her eyes. What did she wish for?

_She wished for a new camera, toe-curling kisses and to utterly, completely and magically fall in love._

Deciding it was a sufficient wish, Rory opened her eyes and blew out the candle. The table full of her colleagues and friends cheered "Happy Birthday" and raised her toast in her name.

Kate hugged her shoulders tightly and whispered, "Love comes from the most unexpected places."

_How the hell did she know?_

* * *

"Logan! You made it!" An intoxicated Kate fell into his arms once he reached their table. "You met my hubby, right? We have a babysitter until midnight!"

"I had to make a stop on the way." Logan offered vaguely balancing the thoroughly tipsy woman. "How many did she have?"

"Two." Rory popped her lips. "Of each."

"You're just jealous because I'm in the arms of a gorgeous man," Kate tagged his arm towards the improvised dance floor, "come dance with me."

Logan peered at Rory and the man whom the graphic designer called husband hoping he'd be spared.

"Better you than me, dude."

Kate dragged him away before he could protest.

* * *

"I got you a present." Logan leaned closer to conquer the noise. Somehow, he miraculously manhandled Kate back into her silent husband's possession.

"You did?" Rory Gilmore asked surprised.

"Yeah," he admitted coyly, "But not here. Outside."

His back was already making its way out the door before she could interpret his intentions. She hated when he did that.

"Well, what is it?" She couldn't contain her curiosity. A Gilmore never refused the carrier of gift, cake or coffee.

"Come here." His hand gripped her elbow pulling her farther away from the entrance and the out of the street light.

"Logan, this isn't funny. I'm cold." She protested dragging her feet in resistance.

He spun around, satisfied with their secluded spot, shed his jacket and handed it to her. "Wear this. Check the inner pocket."

Rory slid her arms into the garment appreciating the lingering warmth left from his body. She pried its pocket. Staring bewildered at the perfectly rolled joint she fished out.

"Premium supply from over the Canadian border." He smiled triumphantly, almost giddy. His fingers snapped on the lighter he retrieved from his Chinos. "Let's light this baby up."

"Did you smuggled that?! That's illegal."

Logan cocked his head to the side. She and Colin would get along like a house on fire.

"You're cool sleeping with married men but get demure about smoking a joint?" he placed the filter between his lips and lit the paper, "You really should get your morals in order."

"Logan, we can't smoke this here." She looked around frantically, "this can get you in jail."

He looked around. They were sufficiently secluded from prying eyes.

"I have a good lawyer." He raised his eyebrow at her, daring. "You're scared the teacher will see or something?"

She didn't look impressed. "I'm really not that boring."

"Oh I know you're not boring."

His grin widened and turned into ringing laughter when she reluctantly gave in and chocked on the smoke.

"You're so bad at this." Logan shuffled closer, retrieving the smoking stick from her hand and suckling on. "Don't tell me you've never done this before?"

Rory hoped her blush was barely visible.

"God, I feel like I'm corrupting you." He breathed, a decisive demeanor taking over his eyes. "Okay, let's teach you to do this right."

"Logan." She found herself weakly protesting.

"You only live once, Rory."

~w~

* * *

"Was it an epic kind of love?" The question rolled off her tongue before she could stop it. She felt uninhibited. "Your marriage."

"In retrospect, it didn't last long enough to be epic."

Rory Gilmore turned out to be talkative under the influence. He found that endearing. Her choice of topics - less.

"You don't look like the type who gets cheated on."

"I wasn't aware there was a look." He reached to take the remainder of the cigarette off her hands.

She denied him access attaching the filter tightly to her lips. "Who did she do it with?"

"Her Pilates teacher. You can google the rest."

He watched the smoke die.

"Do you miss her?" Her question caught him off guard.

"No." He said it too fast it felt too automated to be candid. Her Bette Davis looked at him. "Yes. Sometimes."

"Why?"

Logan paused. No one ever asked him that. What would be the best way to explain?

"Some lens filters make the colors more vivid, right?" He said softly like he was letting her on a secret.

She nodded.

Rory was vaguely aware they were sitting a little too close on the cold pavement. She craved the heat that radiated from him past the leather jacket she still wore. Her head felt like it was swimming, pulling towards his magnetic field. She didn't care. He didn't seem to mind either.

"That's how being with Chelsea made me see the world. I miss that."

"That's so romantic." Rory's voice was barely a whisper. "Sound exhilarating."

"It is. It was." A small smile played on his lips. She could spy lost memories in his eyes.

The flutter of her fingers on the back of his hand brought him back to this moment.

"What happened then?" Her voice reminded him of Honor's when their nanny used to tell them fairy tales, fascinated. He hesitated.

"Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much." He looked side-wise at her, aware his voice quivered a bit but not from the cold. "Maybe sometimes people aren't what they seem to be."

Her eyes rimmed with tears like he shattered her heart of glass.

"Did you love her?"

Rory felt his body disconnect the invisible strings tying them together. The magic tore. She shouldn't have asked that. Too intimate.

God this stuff was strong.

"It would have hurt less if I didn't. We all have our scars to bear." He stood up and offered his hand, "Com' on Bette Davis, your party awaits."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: You all own FlowerGirl for her huge contribution for getting this chapter up in time and for allowing me to pick her brain a little. Also for ReadAndLive, your latest review turned a line written for not much purpose to so much more.

My deepest apologies for bad grammar. Enjoy.

* * *

**December 2011**

Christmas wasn't Logan's favorite holiday. He by far preferred bank holidays where family obligations were not required. Besides, he had enough embarrassing socks to go around.

Shira served his grandfather's favorite roast. Honor's girls made the dinner table was much more entertaining and ensured a nice distraction from the cross-examination he used to endure in the past.

He was quick to notice Honor wasn't drinking. Logan who desperately wanted to avoid being dragged into the study, stuck by his nieces and retreated to the playroom once dinner was over.

"I'm going to color Bell's lips red because all the princesses wear red lipstick. You have to color Ariel's lips red too, Phebe." Amelia instructed her sister.

Phebe nodded in agreement, "I will."

Logan was amused at her out of character obedience.

"Mummy said we're too little to wear lipstick. But grandma Shira let us."

"Phebe! you weren't supposed to tell!" Amelia scolded her little sister. "It's a secret."

"Uncle Logan won't tell," Phebe dismissed her.

"You're doing it wrong. Flounder has blue fins - not green," The six years old pointed out. Logan wasn't qualified to color a princess, so they assigned him the fish. "You need to paint it over."

"I think my flounder prefers green," Logan argued.

"It can't. It's not the rules," Amelia was bossy and vicious. Just like her mother.

"Uncle Logan, are you a prince?" Phebe asked.

"No. What makes you think that?"

"Grandma Shira has a picture of you with a girl wearing a princess's dress," Phebe made an effort to color within the lines. Otherwise, her sister would have something to say.

"Grandpa Mitchum always tells mommy you're the heir," Amelia added her observation. "And you used to live in England. Daddy told me that in England they have a prince."

Logan wondered whether she'd know the word 'heir' meant, at the age of six, if she wasn't a part Huntzberger.

"Why do you always live so far away from us?" Phebe was playing hardball with the questions tonight.

He didn't know how to answer that question.

"How come we never saw her?"

"Who?"

"The girl in grandma's picture," Amelia said as if it he was thick.

"Because she turned into a frog when I kissed her."

"She did?!" Phebe's eyes went big. He loved her imagination.

"Ew. Gross," Amelia's face twitched.

"What's going on in here?" His sister's voice rang above the girls'.

"Uncle Logan kisses frogs, Mommy," Phebe exclaimed giddily. She was the cutest thing.

"Anyone wants cake?" Honor's suggestion made her girls race out the door. She turned to look at her brother who was dutifully closing the marker's caps.

"What the hell were you telling them?"

"They asked me if I was a prince. What was I suppose to say? I heard there's a cake? Is it good?"

"Logan, wait," His sister grabbed his hand, "Let's talk for a moment."

"I'm not supposed to tell you mom lets them wear makeup," His eyes twinkled.

"I already know that. I'm their mother," Honor rolled her eyes then turned serious, "Did they asked you about Chelsea? I told mom to replace that picture with the new one you sent."

"It's fine Honor." Logan shrugged, "They're just kids."

"Did I tell you I love the new picture?" She linked her arms in his walking him through the Huntzberger mansion's corridors, away from the playroom and the opposite side of the dining room. "You look happy. The west coast agrees with you."

He wondered what she was up to.

"This house depresses me." He winked at her cheekily, "I can't wait to get back."

They ended up in his old room and he went rummaging through the drawers of the dresser.

"Get back to Rory?"

Logan stopped and looked at his sister. Strange turn in the conversation. Why would she think? How did she know about her anyway?

"You forwarded the e-mail. She's one who took the picture. Is she your girlfriend?" Boy, he didn't need to guess from who her girls got their interrogation skills.

"Are you playing detective or something? she works in Current," He explained, "We're just friends."

"You are friends with a woman?" His sister asked skeptically.

"I can be friends with a woman."

"No you really can't," Honor said quickly, "You always end up sleeping with them."

"That's a lie," He protested quickly.

Honor didn't seem to agree, "If this turns to another Bobbi, dad will go ballistic on you. That is a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Don't start me on him," He resumed the search in his dresser. "Uff, you sound like Ben. Nothing's happening with Rory."

"So I can set you up on a date?" Honor questioned her brother.

Damn, he walked right into that trap.

"What are you looking for anyway?"

"Aha!" he cried happily at his loot. His fingers finally found the tiny plastic bag full of green. "I hope it's still good. You want to smoke?"

He winked at her letting her know he was on to her secret.

"Logan."

"Fine, set it up." He gave in, stuffed the loot in his pocket and pecked her cheek, "I'm meeting Finn and Colin."

Xx

* * *

Rory was looking forward to Christmas. It was a Gilmore favorite after all. Until she touched down frozen Connecticut and greeted by her father at the airport.

That certainly wasn't part of the plan.

Rory was still processing the shock of them being back together. Like really together, living arrangement and all. Again. Her mother didn't even mentioned it.

Gigi was in France with her mother for the holiday. Caught up with repressed dreams of how it was always meant to be, Lorelai couldn't contain her Christmas spirit. They compromised on opening one gift each tonight so Christmas morning won't be ruined.

"You have to guess what it is first!" Lorelai was always excited at the concept of gifts.

"A set of cocktail shakers?" Rory gave her best effort.

"Oh! That's a good one! Useful too." Lorelai praised her daughter and turned to Chris, "It is?"

Christopher Hayden squeezed his hand on her mother's thigh. Rory looked at her parents wry.

"Just open it."

Rory swallowed. A gift from her father. He looked nervous too. She carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing the original box slowly. Her face broke into an uncontrollable grin.

"Oh wow." The brand new camera shone in her hands.

"You like it?" he asked tentatively.

"I love it." She whispered in awe. A Sony NEX-7. Compact, lightly portable with a great range. Almost any lens could fit. It was exactly what she wanted.

"Thanks dad."

"You're welcome, Kiddo." He looked genuinely happy and overly relieved. He mother looked at them both proudly. Rory, despite herself, couldn't help but smile back.

~w~

* * *

"I have to check on things at the Pyramid, wanna tag along?" Lorelai stood in the door of her old bedroom coat and scarf in hand.

Rory nodded and dropped the manual of the new camera down on the bed. The battery was still charging. Shame. It could have been a good opportunity to test it.

Approximately twenty minutes later and Lorelai hurried to talk to the woman handling reception. Leaving Rory to wander. Unlike the Dragon Fly Inn which she knew like the back of her hand, she visited her mother's new pride and joy, only a few times before.

She reached the bar, recognizing a familiar blonde head.

"Of all the gin of the joints."

"What are you doing here?" he looked startled to see her. Like she intruded at his thoughts.

"My mom came to check on things. I tagged along. You?"

"I ran away from home," He joked dryly. It wasn't far from the truth the way he bolted on Honor, "I'm meeting Finn. Care to join me?"

"Yeah," She found herself agreeing easily. Anything was more appealing than Lorelai's plan to hash it out about her dad. Honestly, Rory didn't want to know.

She felt awful as she watched her mother's retreating heels. Lorelai looked slightly hurt when her daughter told her she's staying.

"What are the chances.." Rory turned to Logan.

A grin spread on his face, "You're just in luck."

Xx

* * *

"A tiara?" His laughter rang in her ears.

They were huddled deep in their coats on the fire escape.

Rory nodded brushing her bangs out of her eyes and whipping tears of laughter. She took the filter off his hands and pressed it to her lips, "Yes, a tiara. It was my grandmother's idea."

Rory Gilmore was high and damn it felt nice. She and Logan, who she shouldn't be doing this with, ended up ranking their worst first dates. Which soon rolled on to other embarrassing moments.

Like her Yale male party.

"I'm terribly sorry I missed that." Logan smiled smartly at her, praying the stick back, "I bet it was your shiniest moment."

"My boyfriend broke up with me in the driveway that night."

"Oh." Logan's brown eyes suddenly looked softer. Like he could somewhat understand.

He offered her another puff. She shook her head briefly.

"I never meant to tell you that," Rory nudged his arm half-accusingly, surprised how firm it was. "I know you were trouble."

"I'm good trouble." He smiled again, brushing her bangs in a comforting manner instead.

"You're so full of yourself." She rolled her eyes, "Come to think of it, how come you weren't there?"

"Must have been my Junior year. I was already with Chelsea by that time. The best getaway strategy I ever had. Besides your grandmother is friends with Mali Rosen."

"How do you know my grandparents?"

He never got to answer that question.

"What are you two up to?" Finn announced himself, making Rory scoot closer to Logan startled.

"He's corrupting me." Rory blurt out in panic, joint clenched in hand.

Logan chuckled.

"Thoroughly, I hope," Finn looked at her funny. "Why Logan, I can't believe you started the party without me."

"You were late."

"Well don't hog it all to yourself, Gilmore," Finn took the cigarette off her hands and sat down taking a long drag. "Ah, I missed that."

Rory found it surreal to be sitting on the fire stairs with her boss and her mother's business partner while they dissed their other friend for being whipped.

"Don't believe this guy. Logan was the worst." Finn threw shade at Logan.

"Shut up, Finn." Logan threw some snow at his Australian friend in response.

"I need to go to the washroom," Rory announced. Raising to her feet she felt Logan's hand balancing her as she stood.

"To your left, love." Finn supplied the required instructions.

The fire escape door closed after her.

"Here. Don't DUI." Finn passed him a keycard, "And Logan, the less I know the better."

~w~

* * *

By the time she returned from the washroom Finn was gone and Logan already lit another joint. She sat one step lower than him and reached to share.

"What's in New York?"

"Huntzberger obligations." He said vaguely.

"I should get home. It's late." The words left her mouth, but she stayed frozen in her place, "I don't want to go home."

"Then stay." He said simply.

She took a deep breath, "My mom and dad are back together."

"Isn't that every kid's dream?"

"Not this kid." She puffed, pointing at herself, "This is a disaster brewing. It never lasts. I don't understand why they keep gravitating towards each other when they make each other so miserable."

"Some people are like that." Logan weighed in diplomatically.

"He thinks that if he buys me a new camera for Christmas, then we're cool. I'm not eight anymore, he can't bribe his way out of it."

"I'm sorry." His fingers run through her soft hair. He was high, the sensation felt nice.

She fell silent and Logan suddenly realized that he'd been doing it for a while.

He stopped and she looked up at him. "We really shouldn't be doing this."

In his intoxicated state, her eyes seemed inhumanly blue.

"No, we shouldn't." He agreed.

"Is this like a wrinkle in time where we're not in Seattle and you're not my boss? Because I'm really high."

"Yes, something like that." It wasn't adorable that he found that funny.

"Logan, are you going to kiss me?" He looked surprised at her boldness.

"I don't want just to kiss you." Logan unconscionably licked his lips. Damn Honor for messing with his head.

"I don't want that either." She whispered back.

He just stared at her for a long moment. Like it wasn't enough to ease his resistance and throw him off the edge. She felt his heart racing, or maybe it was her own.

"Am I stepping on anyone's toes?" His eyes searched reassurance in her face, "Boyfriend, husband, someone else's husband?"

"Am I?" She answered with a question.

"No."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

~w~

* * *

"You missed the presents."

Lorelai camped in the kitchen table, right in the middle of Rory's walk of shame route. It didn't take more than this to make Rory realize that Christmas morning was officially ruined.

"Where's dad?"

"Sleeping." Lorelai tongue clicked.

"Were you…" Rory cringed on her words, "Sleeping too?"

"Not as good as you," It didn't take much to add up Lorelai Gilmore was mad either, "So Logan."

"Yep," Rory said dumbly her shoes hanging off her fingers. It was pointless to deny.

"Seriously Rory, Logan? Logan?" Rory couldn't decide what her mother was more – disapproving or disappointed.

"You're just upset because you wanted to talk about dad last night and I didn't."

"He's your boss. There no other way to spin that, Rory." Lorelai deflected her claims, "I didn't raise you to be like this. I didn't raise you to be the kind of girl who makes bad decisions with men."

"You are back together with dad."

"So this is all my fault? I make one decision you don't approve of and you have no choice but spiral out of control and wreak havoc on your career? This isn't you Rory."

"You don't know what is me anymore." Rory snapped, "And I don't know what are you."

Lorelai's stunned face held all the hurt she could master.

"Of course I know," Lorelai protested, "You're Rory. I can't believe that you, of all people - the girl who draft a pro-con list on the type of yogurt she buys - didn't bother to run a pro-con list before hooking up with her boss."

"No, you don't know. You don't know anything." The words fell out of her mouth quicker than she could think. "This isn't the first time with Logan, okay?"

Lorelai didn't control her gasp.

Rory turned away, picking up the coat she left in the foyer.

"Where are you going?" Lorelai was hot on her tail. "We're not done talking about it. God. Rory. What are you gonna do now? Is there a plan? Are you gonna start an affair with him? Are going to quit your job because of conflict of interest? Because he sure ain't going to."

"Mom, just stop."

"What's going on?" her father stood on the stairs.

"Rory," Lorelai was too proud to plead.

Rory pulled the door, barely looked at her mother, completely ignoring him. "I'll see you at Grandma's."


	11. Chapter 11

Hello:) A little later than usual, but still here with my little gift to you.  
The amount of pages I wrote for this part which didn't meet the cut is probably the largest so far. It just wasn't working right. I pretty much rewrote the whole thing.  
Thank you all for joining the ride in this AU, your appreciation and your comments off and on the review board amazes me. I never, even in my wildest dreams, thought so many of you would approve.

* * *

**January 2012**

"I hate you."

Logan drowsily checked the caller ID, even though it wasn't really necessary.

The digits on his phone showed 4 a.m.

"Finn, it's the middle of the night," Logan groaned.

"Not where I am," Finn's tone sounded edgy. Logan detected the sound of a slamming car door. "I just called to say I'm delighted you took full advantage of the complimentary condoms because we won't be providing them anymore."

"The Pyramid provides guests with condoms?" Colin's condescending voice sprang into the conversation, "Interesting concept, but brands you rather cheap."

God help him. He was on a conference call with Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"We are progressive that way. Or at least we were, until my dear business partner ruthlessly cut out my humble contribution to our hospitality vision," The bitterness oozed out of the grumbling Australian, "Thanks to Logan."

"Because?" The voice that was Colin egged on the frustrated entrepreneur. "Where are you anyway?"

Logan couldn't believe Colin was goading him. Actually he could. It was just their way.

"Seattle." Logan threw himself back into the pillows and rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Can't we do this in the morning?"

Finn's bitterness turned to irritation.

"No Logan," Logan could hear Finn punching his car code furiously, "I'm up and on my way to work before 9 o'clock because you couldn't keep it in your pants. Lorelai is livid."

"I'm lost." Colin pointed out, "Why am I out of the loop?"

"Three condoms," Finn recited, "If I wasn't so disgusted with you right now, I'd be impressed. Considering I left at 2 a.m and my source tells me she was home by eight."

Logan's silence loudly spelled 'guilty'. Wait - how does he know…? What source?

"Come again?" Colin wolf-whistled.

"Lorelai went through the trash."

What? Why the hell would she go through the trash? Too much drama for a wrinkle in time. He should have listened to the faint voice in his head that constantly called: Abort.

Logan cringed, "Very funny, Colin."

"One of my best, even if I do say so myself."

"Off-topic!" Finn honked.

"Off-topic? You are the one who called to discuss Logan's sexcapades." Colin argued, "I can't believe you're turning 30 and still can do that. I feel old."

The line went silent for a beat.

"What happened to 'the less I know the better'?"

"That went out the window the moment I was forced to face repercussions of you- and I quote- 'corrupting' the little L," Finn fired away, "I know too much already."

"Am I a redundant party in this conversation?" Colin's voice inquired, "You slept with Lorelai? Don't get me wrong, she's a fox, but isn't she a little old?"

"Your mind repulses me, Colin." Finn did sound repulsed by the suggestion, "He deflowered her daughter."

"Ah-Uh! You banged the photographer?" Colin couldn't hide his amusement, "Wait 'till I tell Steph! And to think she was entertained by Honor pimping you around the East-Side."

"Don't tell Steph," Logan and Finn blurted out simultaneously.

"What's that to you?"

Bingo. Logan was reminded why he kept Colin around.

"I second that," He waited for the Australian's excuse.

"He made me an accomplice! Two out of the four most important women in my life are already pissed at me." Finn protested, "I would have never given him that keycard hadn't he failed to mention she happens to be his employee."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. Just when he thought this conversation couldn't get any worse…

"Wait," Colin prompted, "Is this a kiss and tell or should I be billing you for legal consultation?"

Oh, this was getting ridiculous.

"First, she's not sixteen - I did not deflower her. Second - I didn't hire her - Ben did." Logan said defensively. He was wide awake now, his night's sleep gone down the toilet.

"That doesn't really hold water in court, just so you know," Colin said carefully.

"Third - I didn't force her to do anything she didn't want me to. Fourth - she isn't as innocent as her mother thinks she is. So don't give me that crap."

"What a gentleman," Finn said sarcastically.

Colin hummed, "After all the trouble you went through salvaging 'Current' when you divorced Chelsea, you're risking it by sleeping with an employee?"

"Colin, did you must bring Chelsea into this?" Finn called exasperated.

Logan ran his hand through his hair, lost for words.

"I'm hanging up now."

**~w~**

* * *

January brought chill winds with it.

The offseason left her weekends pretty empty until around Valentine's day. Winter weddings were scarce. Rory Gilmore was officially bored.

She lay on her back, on the fluffy carpet she got from IKEA, staring up the ceiling. Her new Christmas bribe tightly nestled in her hands. Rory Gilmore was counting down the 30 minutes left for the dryer cycle to end.

She ran out of ideas to entertain herself.

Last weekend she resorted herself directing scenes with whatever supplies she had in her refrigerator. Not her finest moment. Lorelai would have gotten a kick out of her face-painted banana's sit-com. Hell, she would jump in dubbing them.

Not that Rory could tell her.

She and her mother were conducting their own version of the cold war. According to Lorelai - Rory was Russia.

Rory didn't understand why Lorelai hassled her over the Logan debacle. Things were crystal clear with Logan. It's not like her mother had any reasonable explanation to 'getting back together with your dad' situation.

Lunch at her grandparents' went fine. Emily and Richard, age seem to have sprung on them, were so immersed in collecting bits and pieces of her life in Seattle to notice the tension between mother and daughter.

Their curiosity certainly didn't help.

~FB~

_"We want to hear everything. All the plans. The way that girl keeps to herself…" Emily Gilmore passed the roll basket to Richard, "We wouldn't know if she's moving to Peru."_

_"That she does," Lorelai sarcastically agreed. _

_The subtle manner in which her dad tried to pacify Lorelai the second didn't go unnoticed by her daugther._

_"Rory is so busy, her life is a total mystery to us. She could be in the CIA for all we know." Richard Gilmore told Chris who politely smiled in return._

_"Well, I don't think she joined the CIA, dad. But I'll check her purse for secret document." Lorelai quipped her voice a little elevated. "One may never know."_

_"You went for a visit, didn't you, Lorelai?" Emily Gilmore, "What did you think of Rory's company?"_

_"It's not her company, Mom." Lorelai metaphorically pulled out the daggers, "Rory doesn't own the company, someone else does."_

_"The company she works for. You know what I meant, Lorelai."_

_"Well, It's nice." Lorelai smiled sweetly, gulping her wine to disguise her gibe, "Very intimate."_

_"Oh that's lovely," Emily Gilmore seemed delighted with the answer, "Rory you must be pleased."_

_Dirty. Lorelai chocked on her wine. Rory did too._

~FB~

No, lunch certainly wasn't a success.

What partly terrified, partly saddened her was to learn how used they were to be conversing about her as if she wasn't there.

Richard and Emily Gilmore, and her mother too, were so proud of her professional achievements. It was the only part of her life Rory shared with her family for a while.

The safe part. The part that didn't disappoint.

Now, when Lorelai stumbled upon a truth, her worst fear materialized - she didn't live up to the other expectations. Rory was kind of relieved she found out. Playing pretend was too hard. Fitting back into perfectly tailored vision they had of her was agonizing, she grew out of it.

She was starting to realize that maybe she didn't need to live by those rules. Maybe they'd be just happy to be included whether or not they approved.

The timer in her phone beeped indicating the 30 minutes were up.

The question was how.

She supposed she could start with stop being ungrateful and call her dad back.

**~w~**

* * *

Logan sat crossed-legged on top of an unattended washing machine, flipping through a paper abandoned in the laundry room. He considered going up and back down fourteen floors to be a waste of energy. Apparently, he wasn't the only one.

His phone screen flashed 'Honor'. Logan sighed and accepted the call. Nothing else better to do anyway.

"Are you screening my calls?" His sister's voice spilled through the speaker.

"I would never," His eyes screened the outdated headlines on his way to the comics section.

"How did it go?"

"Fine."

"You didn't like her," Honor surely didn't waste any time. "What's that noise?"

"I liked her fine. The dryer, I'm doing the laundry."

"Did you make plans to see her again?" She was relentless. He hardly was going to break the three days rule to call some girl.

"No."

"Why not? She's perfect for you! She likes skiing," Skiing made her perfect for him? Going by the way Honor filled his calendar with dates, he suspected she had all the eligible women in New York filed in a card index.

"Because I don't want to."

The laundry room rattled and he noticed Rory slipping in. She looked surprised to see him. He nodded at her and watched her walk wordlessly towards the dryer, pretending not to listen in on his conversation.

"Okay, no worries." Honor voice came through again, "Will you be in New York for your birthday?"

"It's undecided. Look, Honor, I have to go."

"The girls will be happy to see you," She was bringing her ace game, guilt-tripping him like that. "Phebe is still excited about beating you at Snakes and Ladders."

"I let her win."

He caught Rory smiling behind the dryer door.

"Sure you did. Don't be a stranger," The call clicked off.

"I'll have you know I'm an excellent Snakes and Ladders contender," Logan informed Rory, who finished to unpack her laundry load from the dryer.

"I had you down for a Battleships kind of guy," she responded laundry basket now in hand.

"Why's that?"

He loved Battleships. Honor used to refuse to play it with him - claimed he was cheating. She was just ridiculously bad at it.

"For one, you read the comics section," Rory gestured to the paper in his hands.

"Everyone reads the comics section. It's the American thing to do."

"Not everyone," She raised her eyebrows at him. "Real papers don't have a comics section."

"What's wrong with the comics section? It's fun. It's the nonjudgmental part of the paper," he argued, "What the other thing?"

"Your favorite word is 'strategy'." She looked at his funny, "The comics section is not judgmental?"

"Of course. Even if you missed a few installments and you pick it up later, they still feel like old friends," he rolled the paper in his hand, "Even if the storyline doesn't adds up with what you've previously known."

"Now I see how this weird friendship with Ben works, you are secretly a geek."

"I ace in Battleships."

**~w~**

* * *

**February 2012**

Logan could count on one hand the number of times he saw his father out of his comfort zone: At Honor's wedding, that night in Ben's kitchen, and now when he fumbled with the change to pay for the hot-dog vendor.

"Expert moves with the coins there, dad." He smirked at his old man. Hot-dogs in Central Park wasn't the first idea that came to mind when his father suggested a special birthday lunch. "Will I get an ice cream cone for dessert?"

"If you insist."

"Oh, I do. I'll be taking pictures too."

Mitchum Huntzberger munched on his mustard topped hot-dog. His dad wasn't a ketchup kind of guy.

"I can still throw your birthday treat in the trash, Logan."

"Thanks," Logan looked at his father from the corner of his eye, "This is nice. Odd. But nice."

That night in Ben's kitchen was a turning point in their relationship. Logan stopped questioning why or how, but it didn't mean they didn't find moments like this awkward.

"Is Ben back full time now?" Mitchum Huntzberger wiped his face with a napkin.

"Yeah," Logan answered a little guarded, what was the ulterior motive? "The baby is cute. He brings her to the office sometimes."

"I was around your age when you were born. The office is no place for a baby."

Yes, he knows, he can cite Mitchum Huntzberger's life path in his sleep.

"We do things differently at Current."

"Apparently so," Mitchum Huntzbereger reached inside his camel winter coat, retrieving a thin white envelop, "I nearly forgot your present."

Logan took it off his hands, "Is it a spa voucher?"

"It's from me, not your mother."

Logan's eyes skimmed the one-paged legal document, "I don't understand. I don't have the money to buy Current back."

"You don't need to buy it. It's yours. It was always yours. I was just safekeeping."

Logan didn't know what to say. They could hug, he supposed.

"I'll be turning 60 next year. I expect grandchildren in return."

Right. Logan jaw clenched. You don't get freebies in the Huntzberger family.

"Logan, the right woman to have kids with doesn't necessarily have to be the love of your life." Mitchum stuck his hands into his coat's pocket.

"God, that's so sad." Logan kicked the snow with his foot, "I wish you'd never said that."

"Ice cream?"

"I've lost my appetite."

**~w~**

* * *

"I need you to teach me how to draw." Rory dropped a pile of papers in front of Kate.

Rory insisted they'd have their lunch break in a small café two blocks from the office. Ben objected to an extended lunch break, but Logan seemed to want her off his back so she got her way.

"As to practice in art?" Kate reached for the pages confused. Each had a line up of four empty squares on their left, bullet lines in Rory's handwriting scribbled near each.

"Yes. Comics, to be more specific," Rory confirmed. "I have the whole storyline figured out."

"What is this?"

"I'm starting a blog," Rory tapped the scattered pages, "A Comics blog."

"About?"

"My life in Seattle."


	12. Chapter 12

**March 2012**

"I have to admit I was surprised when Ben told me. That was completely unexpected," Priscilla busied herself in breaking down a whole lettuce head into a leafy pile. "I can't imagine what went through your head. You must be delighted."

Ben certainly was thrilled about their newfound business independence. So excited, that when the sun poked out, on a rare Sunday, Ben rallied the troops for a Current's 'homecoming' BBQ.

Logan was too. Partially. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

He rocked the fussy baby carefully in his arms and smiled at his friend's wife lightly. The moment he walked through the door, Priscilla entrusted with the task to keep baby Andrea occupied while she worked in the kitchen.

"Why?" The petite woman proceeded to cut perfect slices of tomatoes.

"Birthdays aren't a very big deal in the Huntzberger family. Because birthdays aren't something you achieve. Why should you be lauded for something that just happens?" he explained, "It's just suspicious."

"I only met your father a handful of times," Priscilla glanced her husband's business partner, "But I didn't get the impression he is set out to get you."

Logan hummed an unclear response. He dreaded his upcoming New York stint; it was shaping out to be longer than he planned. A long line of Huntzberger obligations piling on his calendar.

The baby stared at him.

"She likes you," Priscilla made an observation, "She's never this quiet for this long."

"Like she stood a chance. I've been making girls swoon since 1984," Logan joked, dodging the swat of the towel. "Watch it! I have my hands full here with _your_ child."

The snappy click of a camera and flash abruptly stopped their friendly banter.

"Did you must?" Logan made a face.

"Is it true?" Rory Gilmore lowered her camera, ignoring his frown.

Logan despised the camera and the multiple occasions he was caught off-guard with it aimed at him.

"Is what true?"

"That you're going to meet Jonathan Safran-Foer."

"I'm impressed and partly terrified," Logan found himself unintentionally teasing, "How'd you found out about that?"

"You're not as secretive as you think Huntzberger," She did this little dance, "Ben told me."

Logan turned to Priscilla rolling his eyes, "Maybe he should go in my place since he's apparently so excited."

"Don't you even dare suggesting that," Priscilla swatted him with the towel again warningly.

"It's boring."

"How can meeting Safran-Foer be boring?"

His attention focused on the photographer, eyeing the camera suspiciously.

"I can guarantee you these parties always turns into a bunch of drunks discussing stock, cars, and their latest friends to be indicted. It's boring. I just go, take a date so I'd have someone to talk to and bail as soon as my dad's back is turn."

"So, you are going?"

"Daddy says."

"Wow lucky," suppressed jealously played on her features.

"No." He didn't relate.

"To spend the evening with a great writer? to get to meet him, hear him talk?" The excitement in her eyes seemed to glow with every additive word, "Very, very lucky."

Her hands wiggled around the camera. She seemed to do that when nervous or excited.

"You think so?" He couldn't help himself but goad her.

"Definitely! He's unconventional!"

"It's conventional to say Safran-Foer is unconventional."

"He's the voice of a generation."

"He's pretentious and preachy, and he knows it too." Logan trumped her argument.

"So, can I come?" Wow, where did that come from? "I promise I won't ask for his autograph."

Rory crossed her fingers behind her back.

"There's a mirror right behind you, you know that, right? And - No."

"Evil man." Her eyes narrowed in disappointment and her long locks swayed behind her as she turned her back on him. Taking away the camera with her. Good.

He chuckled and looked down at baby Andrea who cooed, "Well as long as you still like me."

"You're dying to bed her, aren't you?" The way Priscilla sparing the 'again' didn't go unnoticed by Logan. It was evident in her tone. Maybe he stared too long.

Logan looked at his friend's wife sheepishly. She caught him red-handed.

"I'll admit I may have thought about it. Several times," He tried to diplomatically talk his way out of it, "I just don't think it's such a good idea."

"I agree. But, just to satisfy my curiosity, why not?"

"Because of Current." His answer was short. He couldn't completely wear thin his creditability. And as much as he didn't like to admit it - Colin was right – it's stupid to risk it.

"I'm guessing it's not _the_ reason."

"She reminds of me of Chelsea," Logan Huntzberger dejectedly averted his eyes. "Been there, done that. It's too much drama."

**~w~**

* * *

Rory cleaned out her desk before the weekend, listing her assignments for next week. She praised herself on being organized, it was a strength that usually came to her advantage.

If she's lucky, she might catch her grandparents on the phone before they went to bed. It was Friday after all.

"Heading home?" She found Logan hanging by the elevator waiting for the doors to open. She noticed he was dressed more smartly than usual. Compared to Ben, who seemed to be allergic to ironed clothes, Logan always dressed smartly.

"New York."

"Oh right, for your dad's party." She reached to brush her bangs but met with her bare forehead. Rory couldn't decide if she wanted them gone. Shiri suggested she'd style it with a pin to keep them out of her eyes.

"Yes, isn't that thrilling." He replied solemnly but offered no other conversation as they stepped in rhythm into the metal cage.

Logan pressed L for lobby.

"He's a very interesting man, your father." Rory Gilmore could never stand uncomfortable silences.

"You met him?" he glanced at her briefly.

"No, I just read about him. I mean he's a big guy."

"Maybe you'll get to meet him someday." He didn't know why he said that. He never wanted Mitchum Huntzberger to meet Rory Gilmore, he might actually like her and steal her away.

"So, have a good weekend."

She smiled, "I'll give it my best shot."

**~w~**

* * *

Light detector? Check. Film box? Check. Lens? Check. Sony? Check. Safely placed in her bag.

Rory Gilmore was ticking off the items on her list.

The Canon hanged around her neck.

Did she get her pay-check? Yep, safe and sound in her wallet.

"You forgot something," A man's voice quipped up, Rory turned around startled, her camera swung swiftly, hitting her good Samaritan.

"Great self-protecting strategy."

"Oh shit," Rory hurried to apologize, "I'm so terribly sorry. Are you okay?"

She'd seen him plenty tonight. He was with the band. Cover bands seemed to be the latest trend in the wedding industry.

"It's alright, no broken bones," He held out a smartphone smiling, "I believe that's yours."

No it wasn't.

"That's not mine." Rory draw back her hand.

Rory Gilmore looked closely at the young male standing before her. Dark Jeans, a sports jacket over a flannel shirt. Hazel eyes, smooth face, his brown locks styled with the full intention not to look styled.

He kinda looked like that kid from 'One Direction'.

"I know. It's mine. It lacks your name and phone number," His dark eyes twinkled confidently, "I had to make up a good enough excuse to talk to you."

Rory found herself involuntary laughing, a slight blush creeping onto her face, "You don't want to talk to me."

She bet he wasn't a day over 21.

"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you? I've been watching you all night."

"I'm too much drama."

"Well lucky for you," he wore his confident well for his age. In a smart-ass kind of way, "I'm a drama major."

**~w~**

* * *

Logan, by principle, was the last one to board the plane. It was a fool-proof strategy that saved a lot of time and hassle: no one standing in the way to his seat, less fuss with the luggage. Not that he carried any. A whole wardrobe waited for him at the Huntzberger apartment in New York, the rest fitted in a backpack.

International flights were insufferable, but those were far in between now that he was based state-side. However, domestic flights were six hours of uninterrupted work time. No phone reception. No urgent questions. No meaningless paperwork to sign.

But in his rush to get out of New York - after approximately two weeks, the only spot he could book was in coach. Maneuvering his laptop on the small tray was uncomfortable.

After an hour he gave up.

"Hiking the northwest pacific." The woman seated beside him flipped through the book left on the tray when he went to the toilet, just before landing. She looked up at him, "Backpacking? I would never have guessed."

He shrugged, buckling himself back into the seat. Her brown hair was artificially straightened, yet the red color of her nails played nicely with her colored skin.

"I plan to do the West Coast Trail in May. It's 75 km long."

"How long will that take you?" She returned the book.

"Five to seven days depends on the weather."

"You just don't look like you meet the outdoors much. I strongly recommend vitamin D supplement."

"Based on?" He was aware he was still wearing his office clothes.

"Seven years in Med school."

"You're a doctor?"

"E.R resident. I'm Dawn."

"Logan."

~w~

Phone in hand, Backpack hanged over his right shoulder, Logan Huntzberger was checking his messages. A bad habit he, for sure, picked up from his father. He considered ignoring all of them.

"Logan, wait," He turned at the sound of his name. His latest traveling companion appeared to be a little on the chubby side now that he caught her full figure. But she had a pretty smile, and the light conversation they carried before was refreshing.

Uncomplicated.

"Here," She handed him a plain-looking business card, "Just in case you break a leg on that hike."

He smiled at her joke and looked over the card, 'Dr. Jefferson' engraved in print next to her personal phone number digits scribbled in a blue pen. "What if I need to scratch an itch?"

He didn't mean to flirt. Flirting came easily for Logan, a second nature. He rarely acted on it lately.

She laughed, "I treat allergies too."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dr. Jefferson." He smirked tucking the card into his coat pocket.

"You do that."

He turned to leave but changed his mind. Oh, what the hell. "Do they need you at the hospital tonight?"

**~w~**

* * *

Rory practically skipped into the office on the third Monday of March. She had the best weekend and was bursting to tell Kate all about Joel. How toe-curling it was to kiss him under Seattle's neon lights.

Spending time with Joel was easy, refreshing. Rory Gilmore might be in love.

Her mind was reeling with excitement. Her body was still seething by the way he ravished it with boyish eagerness. How his face seemed to be in awe when she spoke, how he looked at her the whole weekend as if no one else existed in the world.

Maybe Nicole was right about musicians after all.

Kate hadn't come in yet. No one came in yet. Just Logan. It looked he has been there for a while.

She dropped her stuff at her work station, camera, bag, ceramic coffee cup.

There, on the top of her neatly organized stack of papers, laid a book with a post-it attached.

'I owe you a Mars bar' it read in handwriting she didn't recognize, Rory opened her top drawer to confirm the missing Mars bar.

Another yellow post-it spelled 'SORRY' in capital letters.

The next thing she knows, she knocks on Logan's glass wall pressing a signed copy of 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' against it, her face supporting the widest grin possible.

Startled out of his conference call by the sudden thud, Logan stopped pacing. His blonde hair perfectly messed, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up, golf club in hand. His dimples flashed at her.

'Thank you' She mouthed.

'You're welcome,' he mouthed back.

**~w~**

* * *

Generally speaking, Logan was in a great mood, which Ben found amusing. This was a lighter side to Logan he much preferred, the one who electrified the room.

"I say we pitch him the whole deal," Logan pumped the stress ball in his hand, pacing, "I can totally sell it."

Logan's pacing drove Ben mad, but he had to admit the man could think better on his feet. At least he left that stupid golf club in his own office.

"The numbers say we should offer him the skinny model. We don't have enough staff to take on a project that big," Ben surveyed the data on his computer screen, "Let's do it smart, establish a working relationship, deliver, and then expend our contract."

"I still say we pitch him the whole deal," The problem with electrified Logan was that he was reckless. "We can stretch for a while, pay over-time. Cash in. Then, maybe hire new people, it'll balance out."

"I don't see how we can do that without you dipping your feet into content again." Ben tapped a pen on the edge of the keyboard, "And I don't want to work 60 hours a week either. Neither do you. What about New York?"

"I can squeeze a few more hours in. Don't worry about New York," Logan dismissed him airily, "Let's do that, let go for it."

"Look, I love that you're excited. I agree that this is a great opportunity. I'm just saying, we should be more careful. We don't want to crush and burn," Ben stood his ground, "I have full confidence in our abilities, BUT I'd feel much more comfortable if we can actually deliver what we say we can."

"Did just Mitchum-ed me?" Logan threw the rubber ball at Ben. It bounced off the monitor into the tall man's lap.

"Sometimes asking 'what would Mitchum do?' and not doing the complete opposite is the right way to do business, Logan." Ben rolled the ball in his hand, "So it's going well with the Doctor?"

"Yes," Logan said a little testy, he felt a little winded at the speed Ben turned the conversation.

"Okay. So let's chill the urgency to conquer the world a bit. We have a good thing going here," Ben reasoned, "At all fronts."

Ben waited for Logan to gear up his next argument. He knew his friend too well.

"Logan, Mali Rosen is on the phone." Shiri stood in the door of Ben's office looking on the verge of frustration. "Again."

"Take a message." The blonde said without a beat.

"I did." Shiri rolled her eyes and put up her little notebook, "It says: I insist to talk to him."

"I'm busy. Take a message, I'll call her back."

"I already said that. Multiple times." The office manager didn't look pleased, "She's been ringing the phone off since Monday morning, it is now Wednesday. Just talk to the lady."

He's well aware. Mali Rosen has been persistently calling his personal phone too. He just as persistently ignored her.

Ben raised an eyebrow at him but contributed no words.

"Who is she anyway?"

"No one important," Logan Huntzberger rubbed his neck in discomfort, "Did you tell her I already made a very generous donation?"

"Yes." Testy Shiri answered.

"Okay. Problem solved. She should stop calling anytime now."

Shiri looked skeptical.

"Take a message." Logan insisted.

Shiri turned on her heels in a huff, only to return a few seconds later.

"What now?" He was getting impatient. It wasn't Shiri's fault, she was a sitting duck in the line of fire.

"She said a bunch of really not nice things about you." Shiri bit her lip, "She told me to tell you that - C.O.D?"

What? Strange message. That got his attention. "Please repeat that?"

"C.O.D, C O Did?" Shiri repeated slowly twitching her lips, testing the words, "I don't know, she was crying. It wasn't clear. Is that code? C O Ded? She OD?"

Logan swallowed hard, the vowels in her speech registered slow in his brain. His hand grabbed the edge of Ben's desk for composure, his knuckles white.

"Maybe you should just call her back," Shiri looked between him and Ben, concerned by his strange reaction.

"Chelsea?" Was the only word that left Ben's mouth. Ben looked winded as he felt.

Logan nodded shortly.

"Shiri. Call her back, tell her he's coming and book him a flight to L.A.," Ben instructed, "And close the door."

The sound of Ben's door shuddering on the frame rang in his ears. Logan, now in Ben's chair, took shallow breaths.

"I am not going." Logan shook his head furiously.

"This is exactly why we're not jumping the gun here," For the second time today, Ben channeled Mitchum Huntzberger, "Because every time something like this happens, you fall apart."

Logan couldn't tell if he was talking about business or something else.

"She overdosed. Logan, man, you have to go," Ben sighed, "I'll call Priz to tell her I'm comin' with."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: I know. I know. My deepest apologies for the long (unusual) wait, but I had to make these guys some justice. Few things that happened while you were waiting: this story has 100 reviews and nearing 16,000 view. Wow guys. Your public and silent support in this universe is very appreciated, so thank you. You are welcome to visit the the review feed or my PM if you feel like it.

While I usually try to combine their story arcs, this particular chapter is very Logan centeric, it just is. But it's just as important. It's still a Rogan fic, but people come into your life for a reason. Totally nervous about this one. FlowerGirl - you and your inbox are god sent and everyone should know.

* * *

**March 2012**

**_~California~_**

Feet up in the air, head pointing down towards the ground. Logan hangs upside down on the monkey bars. His abs brunt from the effort but he ignored the pain.

"Get down, I can't talk to you when you're like this." Colin's shoes spoke.

"Ben can."

"Ben's special," Came Colin's response. "Are you going to come in?"

Ben was a blessing. He owed him one. Hell, Logan Huntzberger owed his business partner a lot of ones.

There was a time, up until approximately three days ago when Logan didn't think he could step a foot in L.A. anymore. The place where his life turned 180 degrees, twice. Where he fathered his best-concealed dreams. The place where his budding hopes laid to rest.

California was a tainted land wrapped in cellophane.

Upon landing, while Ben pushed him towards Alamo's service desk to rent a car, Logan did his best to convince his friend they should just take the car back to Seattle.

Or watch a 'Lakers' ballgame.

His tall friend had none of it. Logan wondered if it was some quality enabled by fatherhood. Because, more often than not, Logan was damn good at bending people to his wants.

Now, Ben was on his way back to Seattle. With the new deal in the pipe, they couldn't afford both of them gone from the office anymore. Logan and Ben joked there must be a mani-pedi party going on at the office. Joke aside, he didn't think it was farther from the actual truth.

Mitchum Huntzberger always said the mice were partying while the cat was gone.

"Well?" Colin's voice cut through Logan's thoughts.

"You haven't seen me on the spin-around yet. I can go for three and a half minutes before I get sick."

Two days passed and Logan still couldn't bring himself to enter the medical facility. The playground was Logan's fort, for now. He was stalling.

Sunnyside Retreat. It sounded like an all-day breakfast joint. It came highly recommended by his mother. Mali Rosen made sure that he'd know. Logan detested Chelsea's mom.

Colin didn't look amused. Quite frankly Colin looked completely fed up.

"I'll recruit enough gumption, eventually," Logan couldn't sound more reluctant if he tried. "Do you have a smoke?"

Getting sucked into Chelsea's atmosphere was daunting. Mostly because he wasn't sure how he'll come out the other end. He can't remember a time where he and Chelsea didn't orbit around each other. Whenever she crossed his path, he got caught up in her meteor shower.

It was magic while she cursed his sky, in her wake, it left a trail of distraction and a carter in his heart.

"Logan, substance abuse is a little inappropriate at the moment," Colin's foot tapped impatiently.

No, Colin McCrae didn't envy Ben who'd have to deal with the fallout whenever Logan got back to Seattle.

"You know what's inappropriate?" Logan push himself up and jumped off the bars, kicking the sandy ground, "The second I actually had a decent strike at being happy, she goes and sucks me back in. How about that?"

Colin shrugged tucking his hands in his pockets. "Yet you're here."

Logan felt his lung contract, "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"She's one of us. It's a given." Colin stated simply, braving the glare Logan shoot him. "Look, I was against calling you. I personally think this will do more damage than good. But I was out-voted."

Logan's foot molded patches on the sandy ground. Divided loyalties must suck. Logan wasn't blind to how the collateral damage of him and Chelsea affected his friends. Even if most of the time he did choose to ignore it.

In the division of assets, he seemed to win Colin for his corner, Chelsea got Finn. Finn was just a better dancer he couldn't blame her. Or the Australian for that matter.

"It's an unpopular opinion, but you weren't the only one getting divorced, Logan."

"Whose fault is that?" Logan bite.

"Does it really matter anymore?" Colin wondered aloud, "You moved on."

Of course it mattered.

Logan ran his hand in his hair, "Moving on and getting over is not the same thing."

"I honestly wouldn't know," Colin looked somewhat sympathetic, "But as it happens, you're already here, so will you please go in there - do whatever is you do - and Huntzberger her into getting treatment. She'll only listen to you anyway."

"And then what?"

"Then we can all, finally, go home. Or whatever."

Logan sighed defeated. "I have no idea what to say to her."

"The circumstances are less than brilliant, but maybe it's time you two clear the air."

~w~

* * *

Logan was back on the lower set of monkey bars, eyes closed, counting and breathing. He already broke his push-up record earlier today. 20 more he could break his upside-down crunches record too.

After Colin, Finn has had his go at accelerating his pace. Logan won't be pushed around. The Australian returned empty-handed leaving him with a package of smokes. They fell out of his pocket, now laying on the ground.

"Finn must have run out of real-estate for me to re-decorate if he brought in the big guns." Her tone was almost sarcastic. Logan was so startled that if it weren't for his knees hooked over the bars, he'd fall off.

His eyes snapped open, first taking in the metal blue fabric of her tights, over-sized white knitted sweater, then her heart-shaped face framed by her silky blonde hair. Her blue eyes.

His heart thumps hard in his chest.

"Hi, husband."

Logan needed a minute to brace himself. His hands easily secured the ground.

Chelsea Rose, gracefully sat down, crossing her legs in a well-practiced yoga pose. Their faces now leveled mirroring one another. He can't move, he just hangs.

She doesn't look as fragile as he feared she'd look. An unexpected wave of relief washes over him.

"I didn't expect you to come." Her hand reached to crass his face slowly tracing his three days stubble.

"I didn't want to come."

"Did my mother managed to convince you the apocalypse is upon us?" her hand moved onto the hair at the back of his neck.

"I can't seem to shake off the urge to rescue you, I had to make sure you're okay." He admitted, his eyes closed again as her fingers gently scrapped the edge of his skull. He sighs half contently at her touch. The gentle caress of the Californian wind tickles his eyelashes.

The next thing he knows, her lips are on his and he gives in to the familiarity of her.

God, he missed her unexpectedness.

"I think I get you Spiderman fantasy now." Her words killed the magic still buzzing in the soft tissues of his brain when they broke for air. "It's hot."

The wheels in his head still screech from the turbulence turn of events. All he can is focus on her swollen lips. He can still taste her on his lips. Wine gum.

He blinks at her stupid, torn between frowning and chuckling. "Com' on crackpot, help me down."

His abs strain as he pushes himself up. He'll be sore for days. When he sets his feet back on the ground, a safe distance out of her reach, Logan is half surprised they don't hit the ground running.

"What no hug?" disappointment washed over Chelsea's face.

He looked at her pointedly. "Don't push it."

"Fine. If that's how it's gonna be. I see punishment is still in fashion. Where's your watchdog?" Chelsea's eyes scanned the landscape beyond the playground, taking a seat on the nearest swing, "The tall frumpy one."

"Ben." He corrected.

"Yes, Ben. Never liked Ben." She lit one of the cigarettes that fell out of his pocket. "Did I ever tell you that? No? He was so normal."

"The world needs more normal." That's what he liked most about Ben.

"Normal is boring. Normal is overrated. Normal is not why you love me."

Logan set to correct her. They were not going to get into that argument again.

"If you wanna know if he loves you so it's in his kiss." Chelsea beat him into it knowingly, "Cher is never wrong."

Sitting there on the swing in her well-practiced social elite poise, with the white cigarette secured in her thin fingers, Logan could vividly imagine her in a party dress holding a cocktail glass in the other.

Her blue eyes searched his face for the faintest response. Logan kept his expression mild; determined not to give her the satisfaction of irking him.

He leaned against the slide, saying nothing.

Chelsea blew the smoke out of her lungs, "What took you so long? Colin and Finn have been here for days."

"I was busy, cocktailing my sleeping pills with cocaine." If she wanted to get nasty about it - so could he, "You weren't supposed to take the death do us apart thing quite that literally, Chelsea."

"It was an accident." Chelsea Rose clarified. "Not that either of you believes me. Save the lecture."

"It's always an accident with you. Until one day it won't be."

"Are you here talk me into it?"

No. It's been four years, he's gonna kick the habit. She was someone else's problem now. He was faintly aware of a girlfriend lurking somewhere.

"I don't know why everyone is under the false impression I can talk you into anything. It was always the other way around."

"You never needed much convincing." She countered back.

"No, I guess not."

"I love that about you. Your adventurous streak." She averts her eyes, "Don't look at me like that, Logan."

"Like what?"

"You got that silent disappointment face. The one that I can't bear." He doesn't offer her any reassurance that she's wrong. "I could never live up the to the expectations you had of me."

"All I ever expected from you was to be in my corner."

"So did I." Her tone is surprisingly resentful, "You were my best friend and you turned your back on me, I can't begin to explain how that hurt, Logan."

He graced her with a furious glare. "If you want to talk about unrealistic expectations. What goes around comes around."

His words tasted sour in his mouth.

"Fine. I deserved that." She flicked the cigarette ash. "Now, Let's stop pretending you were the one who one got the short end of the stick."

"You cheated on me." Being back here, looking the dulling ache in his heart seemed to intensify. "Just stating the facts here."

"Oh please! We were always cheating on each other! MR. LINE." Her body left the swing, a trail of smoke followed her pacing. "Trust me, Honey, you got the better end of the deal. Your daddy dearest made sure of it."

"That was college," His eyes turned stony, easily deflecting her insult, "You got exactly what you wanted and a lot more than what you deserved."

"Did I?" Her blue eyes narrowed as she drew on the cigarette, "Funny, I don't recall relishing in my nude pictures splashed on each and every single paper in the country. Not to mention the internet." Chelsea's blue eyes blazed with fire, "I'm sorry it's was such an inconvenience for you."

Logan clenched his fists tightly but kept his voice leveled. "You should have at least been more discreet about it. It has nothing to do with me."

"You hypocrite. You didn't even wait for the ink to dry on before you went back to fucking your leggy British sex toy."

Bobbi always rubbed Chelsea the wrong way.

"I never slept with Bobbi, or anyone, while we were married." Logan's clenched jaw indicated he was channeling all the composure he possessed. "Unlike someone else."

"Because that would make you Mitchum Huntzberger. What an unbearable thought." Her words slapped. She looked at him knowingly.

Chelsea Rose always knew to punch him where it hurt the most.

"Fuck you, Chelsea."

"No, fuck you, Logan." Her blonde locks whipped sharply, "I didn't throw you under the Mitchum bus, you went running for him willingly."

Logan bite the inner of his cheek. Chelsea's eyes minimized into resentful narrow slots.

"I don't recall my daddy cuddling me or buying me out of business just to manipulate the prenup. **_My_** father disowned me."

He contains his surprise with some difficulty. She seems stunned by her own words too.

Is this is what it's all about?

"Mitchum might be a horrible dad but at least he loves you." Her voice broke, her left hand quickly wiped her right eye. For the first time, he notices she's wearing her wedding ring.

"Shit, Chelsea."

His voice softens considerably, the compelling instinct to hug her wins over.

"He's sick and he doesn't want to see me." Once her hands grab on his shirt, the dam of her tears broke.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, pulling her closer, kissing the top of her head.

"I never appreciated enough, how no matter wherever you were on the globe, whatever time it was, you'd pick up the phone and talk to me." She sniffs in between teardrops, "You never answer when I call anymore."

Logan sighs, cradling his first everything, his ex-wife closer.

When he looks up over her shoulder, Finn offers him a heavy-hearted shrug.

Accident his ass.

~w~

* * *

Their legs are swaying in sync, sitting side by side on the swings. Logan suckled on a fresh cigarette, promising to himself that once back in Seattle he's gonna quite this stress smoking habit.

Chelsea, all cried out, seemed caught up in her own thoughts. Her tights gleamed under the later afternoon sun.

Her rings too.

"You're wearing your rings."

"I used to think they were mocking me." She nervously twists both her engagement and wedding ring around her finger, "Now, it kind of comforting, you know? I have a piece of you with me everywhere I go."

"Mine's in my wallet." He admits, "Doesn't she mind?"

"Tammi's really Zen," Chelsea suckled on her own cigarette, "Under different circumstances, you'd like her."

"Fat chance of that." He responded dryly. "You and Colin have terrible taste in women."

"Yeah, you're not really the one to talk, Huntzberger."

He never answers because he's not in particular rush to indulge her with the details of his love life.

"When do you leave?" She doesn't look at when she asks.

"In a little while." He says softly, "You'll be good?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," She flicks the butt of the smoke into the sand, meeting his disapproving, gloomy stare, "I pinky swear."

"Was it that horrible? Being married to me?" He finally asks.

"No, being married to you was perfect. I miss us. Everything about it." Chelsea peered at him carefully, if he didn't know better, he'd say longingly. "Ice cream in bed for dinner. Dancing down the stairs in the refrigerator light. Driving half the night for a pitch-black spot to watch a stupid meteor shower… Remember that night?"

"I do." He can't help but feel the corners of his lips tag a little. He and his blue-eye Tinkerbell.

"It's the little things," She continued to muse, "Like your funny socks. How you dive your head under the pillows before you fall asleep, the way your hair sticks out in all directions when you wake."

Logan absentmindedly runs his hand in his hair. His brown eyes held hers.

"I even miss how annoyingly argumentative you are," a momentary brightness flicked in her blue orbs, "And the tingling feeling I get when other women flirt with you."

That makes him chuckle on his last inhale.

The feeling was mutual, which is possibly why the magnitude of her betrayal still resonates through him.

"If it was all so great, what happened to us?"

"One of us, or maybe both of us were changing," Chelsea's fingers brushed lightly against his, "By the time we caught up with it, it was just too late. Though we really did try to make it."

Logan looked at her sadly. They were a perfect storm.

"Divorcing you was awful though," Her metallic legging hangs in the air, "I certainly don't recommend."

"I second that."

Their swings touched closer, their shackles chanting.

"I need you to know that I would have never touched Current. I would have never betrayed you like that. Or get in the way of that." She almost pleaded with him to believe her, "I would have never pushed you back under his shadow."

"Water under the bridge," He feels obligated to reassure her. Partly, because he got it back and because his Huntzberger obligations were never going to dissolve into thin air.

He was slowly coming to peace with it.

"You have your silent disappointed face on again," her palm caressed his stubble, "Your heart was set on things I couldn't give you. I'm so sorry, Logan. I really wish I could."

"Chelsea," He unconsciously leaned into her touch, "Can you do me a favor and try to stay alive until I'm like 70 or something?"

~W~

* * *

**_~Seattle~_**

A bottle of wine tightly clenched in his hand, Logan Huntzberger stood unsure in front of the familiar door.

Unsure how appropriate his unsolicited visit was. Scratch that, there was no question about how inappropriate it was. Especially this time of night.

"In Omnia Paratus" he muttered under his breath, hesitantly raised his hand and knocked timidly on the wooden board. Forever must have passed from that moment until he heard the locks turning.

He smiled meekly at the woman revealed at the door, "I had a really shitty week."


	14. Chapter 14

**March 2012**

"Come back to bed."

Warm lips pressed lazily into the bare nape of her neck, slowly leaving a trail of feverish kisses going south. His sneaky hand crept under the shirt she robbed off the floor after he drifted off into post-coitus sleep.

He pulled the earbuds out of her ear, pried the pencil out of her hand and used his most persuasive tone: "I'll make it worth your while."

Rory's hands covered the sketchbook protectively when his naked chest pressed into her back. Guarding her privacy.

His hot breath tickled the shell of her ear. Rory smiled despite the intrusion. Her initial resistance waning once his fingertips brushed suggestively on her naked thighs. Like they played the strings of his guitar. Rory could feel herself go nearly boneless at the gentle yet seductive flatter.

Rory spanned around on the kitchen stool, away from the sketchbook, and pulled him into a compensating kiss and a promise; "In a minute."

"You always say that," He pressed his forehead to hers pouting, "Then you stay up all night sketching."

"I promise."

"Bed's lonely without you," His mouth began trailing kisses against her jaw again, his hands maneuvered her legs to circle his hips, determined. She smiled at his insatiable manners.

"I just need to finish this first," Rory swatted his roaming hands. Pushing his shoulders back, his youthful skin smooth under her fingertips.

"Do you have a deadline?"

"No." It was only half a lie.

She was halfway to complete her sixty days challenge. Sixty comic strips in sixty days. One strip per day. Sixty key moments and lessons of her life in Seattle. The project was due to wrap up precisely on her mother's 'double 22' birthday.

"No?" His lips stretched into a smile, his tongue flicked over his lips in anticipation, hands running on her forearms suggestively, "I'll do that thing you like."

That had Rory nearly tempted. "Joel."

"Fine. What is this secret project anyway?" Joel eliminated all closeness in a swift movement only a twenty-something body could produce. Without a moment's notice.

Rory's hand fumbled for the pencil, leaning over the kitchen counter half guarding the sketchbook with her body. "Nothing, I told you, it's just… something I work on."

"For work?" Joel asked, a glass of water now in his hand.

"No." Rory kept her answer intentionally vague.

"Are you a spy?" He probed playfully. "Do you encrypt state secrets for the Russians?"

"I'm practically James Bond." Rory's countered; her fingers tightened on her pencil.

"Maybe a Bond girl." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The joke wasn't funny. The heated exchange of words was still fresh in her mind even months later.

She was hoping to put an end to their ridiculous fight. Rory had their reconciliation planned to perfection. Her 't's and 'i's wasn't crossed and dotted just yet, but her dad was on board.

A surprising and overenthusiastic collaborator. Plotting with her dad was kinda fun.

Not nearly as fun as Lorelai, but close.

"So let me see."

No one, besides Kate, was seeing this before her mother.

"No." Rory flat out refused. With good reason too. Who the hell would want to know their girlfriend was scribbling her dingy men history down?

Joel looked disappointed. Rory looked away.

"Fine." He gulped the rest of his water down. His hand left cradled her face leaning down for a kiss. "20 minutes?"

"20 minutes," she concurred, relieved he backed down from further investigation.

His teeth grazed her bottom lip playfully at the edge of the kiss.

He stepped away grinning, waving the stolen sketchbook over his head. Sneaky little bastard.

"If you come back to bed - you'll get it back!"

~w~

* * *

**April 2012**

"Which one of you took my Mars bar?" Rory questioned Nicole rummaging through her drawers. She might have misplaced it, although she was pretty sure there should have been one.

"I don't touch that poison, and neither should you. That's 5.2 spoonful of sugar," Nicole typed louder than necessary on her keyboard to make a point. "It has early death written all over it."

"Your concern has been duly noted." Rory rolled her eyes, "Kate?"

It was post-lunch. Her daily routine wasn't complete without a chocolate bar accompanying her second coffee between 2 to 4 p.m.

"I've been trying to move up my dentist appointment, and there's not even one available in the whole downtown until next week! Do you think I'd be after your Mars bar? My teeth are killing me."

"Well someone is! Has." Rory expressed her frustration. "And it's gone now."

"You used to have better chocolates delivered here before you turned into a cradle robber, Gilmore," Nicole reminisced, "Those were at least worth the sugar."

Rory huffed, she preferred to leave those chocolates and that incident well buried in the past.

Kate, who taken a peculiar liking to refer Joel as her 'One Direction boyfriend', didn't even try to hide her grin.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" Rory's eyes snapped to the man at the door.

Logan Huntzberger always seem to stumble upon her most embarrassing moments.

Impeccable timing.

When did he get back? When they rounded for lunch Ben said he was out. It wasn't unusual. Although since their impromptu trip to California - Ben and Logan took a lot of Lunch meetings. Especially Logan.

"You cut your hair," Kate commented on the change in his appearance.

"I did," He ran his hand over his trimmed locks coyly, "You approve?"

The mussed tousle of blonde hair was replaced with a fashionable cut but still looked defiantly unkempt. Like he couldn't be bothered checking the mirror before he rolled out of bed.

Rory found it odd. It was past noon. He had at least more than one chance to meet a mirror and put it right.

"Oh Huntzberger, trust me if I wasn't happily married…" Kate batted her eyes at him.

Logan's smirk widened.

Rory cringed at Kate's blunt proposition. Watching Kate playfully flirt with Logan gave Rory uneasy feeling. It was just like watching her mother flirt with men.

"Rory is sugar deprived." Nicole offered in the swooned manner she always talked to Logan. Rory narrowed her eyes at the strawberry blonde proofing editor. "Her Mars bar is missing."

"Unfortunate." His face didn't mimic the sentiment.

Then, like a ton of bricks, it downed on to her. He had sex hair.

Logan Huntzberger had a 'sex-lunch'.

He threw his phone at her. The minutes on the screen ticked, someone was still on the line.

"Finn wants to talk to you. I don't want to know why." He said before turning on his heels, "Bring it back when you're done. He's on hold."

Finn wanted to talk about her mother's birthday party.

**xxxxxx**

Stepping into Logan's office was something Rory did on rare occasions.

The Excel spreadsheet he was engrossed in looked frightening, lines and lines of numbers and charts.

"Did you change the names in my phone book?" he asked as if it happened before.

She studied his profile. A red smudge of lipstick stood out on the edge of his pale-blue dress shirt.

Rory decided that maybe she should have.

"You have lipstick on your collar." Her voice was emotionless as she placed the electronic piece at the edge of his desk.

Logan's fingers felt the remains of colorful paste on his collar. Rory didn't think anyone could look both smug and embarrassed until now.

"Stay out of my chocolate drawer, Huntzberger."

~w~

* * *

"So your dad is like crazy rich?" Joel questioned as they waited for the elevator. The arrow pointing down flickered.

Christopher Hayden booked his daughter a business class seat for April 25th. She less than thrilled, but he was trying so hard.

"You won't see him visiting Target anytime soon." Rory wiggled her toes inside her leopard heels. She opted for a diplomatic answer, she didn't want to talk about money with him.

"Did he pay for Yale?" Sometimes Rory forgot Joel was still in college.

"No, my grandparents paid for Yale. Can we talk about something else? Where did you say we are going?"

Joel showed up more dressed up than she anticipated when they arranged going out for drinks. Well dressed up for Joel anyways. White sneakers with black Chinos didn't count as smart in Emily Gilmore's book. It didn't count in Rory's either.

It was Sunday evening. Their heading location was a surprise. Surprises made Rory anxious, she was an avid planner. She hoped her golden midi skirt and white top cut it for the venue.

"I didn't." Joel chuckled, grabbing her hand as the elevator dinged its arrival; "Ready to be blown off your feet?"

"Definitely, not." Rory blurted when the elevator door opened to reveal Logan wrapped in the arms of a fairly luscious woman.

"Oh sorry, man." Easy going Joel was the first to recover.

Logan quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the other still laid on the waist of his companion.

Rory looked anywhere but him.

"Rory."

"Logan."

"Joel. Rory's boyfriend." The musician reached out his hand advertised his status, tucking her under his arm.

"Rory's boss." Logan's countered back in a perfectly practiced handshake. Rory was surprised he chose to cement their acquaintance that way. "Dawn, you've met Rory, right?"

"Nope, first time." The dark woman popped her 'p', taking their dressed-up appearances, "Where are you two going?"

"The Nest. It's a rooftop at the Thompson." Joel announced their night plans proudly.

Rory's mouth dried. This wasn't happening. Her eyes instinctively, but involuntarily, flicked to Logan's.

"Ah, Rory's favorite joint," Logan's voice dripped of concealed sarcasm behind his slow smirk. He turned to his companion, "It's great. We should totally go check it out."

Rory forced a smile.

Logan Huntzberger just crashed her date-night.

**xxxxx**

"We are performing at 'Chich' on April 25th," Joel gulped on his Weihenstephan, "Rory will be on the East Coast but you guys are more than welcome to come."

"Ah, that's cool, what kind of music you play?" Dawn seemed to enjoy Joel's easy chatter about the band. Rory was rather relieved to discover he didn't mind the intrusion on his romantic plans.

On the contrary, Joel was having a blast. She was less forgiving.

"East coast?" Across from her, Logan kept taking shallow sips of his Bourbon. His arm draped over the doctor's shoulders. His phone and her pager camped between half-full drinks.

"It's my mother's birthday."

"How is the lovely Lorelai?" Logan questioned tipping his glass of Maker's Mark. Rory didn't miss the intention behind the drink of his choice. It wasn't a coincidence. Neither were the pink cocktails that kept being coming to the table.

When they went out in a group, he usually stuck to scotch.

Apparently, Dawn's heart was set on being the best trauma surgeon on this side of the flyover states. Rory once wanted to be Christiane Amanpour. That dream de-materialized on the Campaign trail when she realized her elbows bruised easy.

Rory's smile flattened, "She's her normal eccentric self."

"We've been working on some original material. We'll be playing that." Joel continued to carry the conversation he started.

"I'll be so sorry to miss that," Rory squeezed her boyfriend hand encouragingly, avoiding Logan's unnerving eyes. He seemed too interested in her plans. "Joel plays mean Bass."

"We're trying to get this guy from Atlantic Records to come to see us live. He liked the demo we sent. It could help us score some more studio time."

"Yes, that would be a great opportunity." Rory agreed wholeheartedly.

"**_If_** he comes," Logan countered under Rory's disapproving glare, "What? 'IF' is the word daydreams are made off, not strategies."

'Strategy' was a word Logan Huntzberger felt strongly about, he didn't just throw it around. Rory felt the fumes starting in the pit of her stomach.

"We have to get our music out there somehow to get a record deal. It'll be cool if it happens. If not, there's always another day." Joel shrugged unnerved, "That's how the business work. It's a lot of footwork."

"True." Logan took a shallow sip of his Maker's Mark Bourbon, "But you're doing it's wrong."

The female doctor at his side looked surprised at his bluntness. Probably seeing this side of him for the first time.

"Logan don't be an ass."

Rory felt Joel's hand on her arm. "No, let's hear him."

Logan looked at Rory. She simply shrugged, if Joel wanted it.

"Say he doesn't show, what's plan B?"

"We've been saving up for our own studio time. We'll send more demos around."

"It's a waste of time and money," Logan sneered, silencing his vibrating phone. "An hour at a recording studio cost what? around 250 dollars on average? That's without post-production. You'll need more than an hour."

"Yeah, so?"

"Do you have that kind of money?" Rory's face clouded at his straightforwardness.

"Logan, give the guy a break." Dawn picked up her pager although it has not beeped.

"I am. People pay six hundred dollars just to sit-down with me. He's getting it for free." Logan leaned forward daring Rory to argue.

She couldn't. What pompous ass.

"Records companies are a trap. It's a dying business. They'll own your masters - then you're their bitch for life."

"You need a record's company back."

"As distributors, sure. Don't be a fool; Keep your copyrights, cut the middle man. You don't need them to get an audience. What you need is to be savvy and a strong social media presence."

Joel looked skeptical. Logan's phone flashed mutely again- he ignored it.

"Justin Bibber got discovered in a YouTube video. The One Direction hype?" Logan paused his roll for effect – pun intended, "Is all down to an army of teeny-boppers fan-base doing the legwork on Facebook and Twitter."

Rory was partly impressed and partly terrified by his knowledge of teeny-bopper pop culture.

"If the music is good you don't need a gimmick." Joel ideally protested. Rory assumed he didn't like the comparison. Dawn looked bored.

"Arctic Monkeys started on MySpace." Logan was full of fight and spirit.

Joel looked dazed at the comeback. Dawn excused herself to the washroom with her pager.

"What I'm saying is simple: people don't buy music records anymore. They're downloading them." Logan pointed out, "Now the smart thing to do, with very little cost on your part, is to make good music and turn the hype up."

Logan was momentarily distracted by the reoccurring buzzing on his phone. Not for the first time since he started his rant.

He rejected the call.

"What do you mean?"

"You need to keep people talking about you. You need to make your audience do the work for you." Logan summed up.

Joel glanced sideways at Rory. She felt for him, but at the same time, couldn't say Logan didn't have a point. There was a reason he was good at what he does.

"You're a college band, you have a captive audience, but they need to feel like your show is the place to be. They can't come to your show? No problem, make sure they can watch it on YouTube! What people want is a connection. They long to be a part of something bigger. A cannon to mull over."

She couldn't help but be impressed by the way Logan carried his argument. His body language oozed confidence. He was in his element.

"And after all that, if they like your song, you can be damn sure they'll tell everyone they know about it."

Where was her camera when she needed it? He radiated passion.

"Free publicity." Logan snapped his fingers as if it was easy.

Joel toyed with his now lukewarm beer, obviously contemplating. A little overwhelmed.

"The band is not a product."

"Everything is marketable, okay? So fine, you're not a manufactured plastic carp assembled by a group of middle-aged music muggles. You're a bunch of college guys making music. Maybe even good music, who knows? People can relate to that, it's a story."

Rory played with her straw.

Logan rejected the call again. He looked annoyed by it.

"But nobody is talking about it. There are hundreds of bands just like yours competing on the same slice of pie - so what makes you special?"

Joel stroked his chin and tapped his fingers on the tabletop thinking.

"Social media- that's your ambassador of Quan." Logan announced when the musician failed to answer. Rory couldn't hold her giggle. Logan's dimpled flashed satisfied she caught on, "Now you just have to find it. And work it."

"Quan?"

"It's from _Jerry Maguire_." Rory filled him in on the reference. "It's a movie. Tom Cruise is in it."

From the corner of her eye, Rory noticed Logan's eyes searched the room for Dawn.

"Okay, so how do I do that?"

"Ask your girlfriend, that's what she gets paid for." Logan's phone violently vibrated. The screen flashing its blue light again. "Excuse me, I have to take this."

"What just happened?" Joel stared at the blonde man's back.

Rory stabbed her straw in her watered-down pink drink. "He Huntzbergered you."

"I love that guy! How come I never met him before?" Rory stared at her boyfriend in disbelieve, she didn't know what to make of this evening.

"Logan flies a lot." For some reason, he seemed to find her lame answer satisfying.

"You've been here before?" Joel asked. Rory nodded curtly, squeezing his hand in what she hoped was a comforting manner. "I love it here. The view is amazing."

Answering in more detail will only hurt him.

"I thought you'd like the view of the ferries wheel at night." Joel gave a sincere smile. Rory felt bad and touched at the same time. He had wanted this to be special.

"It's my favorite part," She admitted. The problem was that the ferries wheel was a memory of another man.

A man who knew more than just her drink.

Rory inwardly sighed. She knew what comic strip she would be drawing tonight.

**~w~**

* * *

"Priz says you should come over for dinner," Ben said as Logan flopped down on the couch in his business partner's office tiredly mid-day.

"Fine." Logan kicked his shoes off. He didn't have the energy to argue.

"And bring the doctor with you."

"Who's cooking?"

"Ah. That was easier than I thought." Ben said more to himself, "You're not sleeping in here."

"Just resting my eyes." Logan was already sprawled out an arm over his eyes. "20 minutes and I'm good as new."

"I thought you had lunch plans?"

"They fell through," Logan said simply.

Dawn was withholding sex. Since Sunday night at 'The Nest'. A damn shame because she was a thrill in the sack. Her coconut-scented skin and mellow somewhere-southern drawl drove him wild.

She wanted to talk. Logan wanted to wake up, heavy head, lying in his bed with her naked.

"Logan?"

"Hmm…"

"Are you alright?" Ben asked worriedly.

Logan returned from California in high-functioning mode. It has yet to run its course. He also flat out refused to talk about Chelsea- claiming 'there is nothing to say'. Ben didn't believe him for a minute.

All in all, it seemed Logan found himself a Bobbi substitute.

"I'm fine." Logan's voice hinted frustration, "I swear I'm not on anything. I get out of bed in the morning. I'm swimming, running, climbing, hiking, fucking it out."

"Do you even go to sleep?"

Logan didn't answer. It was ironic he was sleepless in Seattle.

Sport kept him in motion, but he needed sex to take the edge off. He couldn't fall asleep without. Taking care of himself didn't achieve the same result. Or other desired effects he craved.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ben offered.

"Does it look like I want to talk?"

~w~

* * *

Logan soaped the chalk off his hands. The cuts on his knuckles stung under the warm water. It was a small price to pay for a satisfying boulder climbing session. It was quickly becoming his favorite sport. A good combination of strength training and his love for highs.

Logan liked the clarity it provided. Solely concentrating on his target and the next hold. Everything else blurred into the background.

Plus, the effort left his body exhausted.

Logan was back in Dawn's good books after dinner at Ben's. What a wild card that was. It brought the sex back into his life for which he was glad. Other unwanted side effects came in the form of sleeping pills prescription.

And an argument over his refusal to take them.

Dating a doctor had a few advantages; the preaching wasn't one of them.

**xxxxxxxx**

Riding up the elevator from the parking lot to his apartment, Logan re-assessed the damage of his cuts. Some may need bandaging. The elevator routinely stopped at the lobby floor.

"Ouch, that must hurt," Rory Gilmore's boyfriend commented on his knuckles. "My fingers bled buckets when I learned to play guitar."

"Looks worse than it is. How's the band, J?" He didn't remember his name.

"Great, great. Thanks for the advice man." Joel smiled openly, "Big help."

"Sure."

The door opened on the 5th floor.

"That's your floor." Logan pointed when Joel's feet stayed rooted in the elevator.

"You seem to know her pretty well." Joel's words came out of the blue. The elevator continued its ride upstairs.

Maybe Logan under-estimated him, and the young musician was more perceptive than he assumed. The depth of his acquaintance with the younger man's girlfriend was a delicate topic.

"Excuse me?"

"Rory. You are friends."

Or maybe he wasn't. Logan twisted his mouth uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't say so." He wouldn't go out and say he and Rory Gilmore were friends. It was a little far fetched.

"I need your help." Joel looked at him hesitatingly.

"You need my help?" Logan asked for clarification. He wasn't sure how he got roped into this conversation. "With Rory?"

"She's the first girl I'm serious about, you know? She's special." The bass player stuck his hands into his pocket, rocking on his heels vulnerably, "She's not your regular high school or college girl, the usual things don't impress her."

Logan tutted, "Trust me, you don't want any women advice from me."

"No, I do. You have Quan." Joel wasn't far from pleading, "I'm so out of my depth here. Man, throw me a bone."

The kid picked up fast. It was endearing. A throwback. Like staring in the mirror at his old deliriously in love self. Not that Logan felt comfortable in his newfound position as a mentor.

The elevator opened on the penthouse floor. Logan secured his gym bag ready to make an exit.

"She likes chocolate."


	15. Chapter 15

_Are you ready for it..?_

* * *

**May 2012**

Rory walked around with a lump in her throat for days. A lump in her throat she just couldn't swallow. It started accumulating the morning after her mother's 'double 22' party.

Lorelai sat like a Sphinx in the kitchen the comic manuscript laid out in front of her:

"I don't understand, knowing all this was supposed to make me happy?"

The disappointment couldn't be more prominent.

The lump roared and the insult burnt when her dad dropped her off at the airport.

"Give it time, Kid. She'll come around." Christopher Hayden offered his daughter a hug, "For what's it worth, I loved it."

Rory carried the lump with her like the camera that hardly left her side. It accompanied her home through her connection flight in Atlanta. Sat beside her on the ride from the airport in the Link Light Rail. It grew when she - against the Gilmore rule book and despite her luggage - took the stairs up to the 5th floor. Avoiding the elevator.

It hadn't left when her apartment door closed behind her and she dropped the rejected manuscript on the kitchen counter. She didn't care if Joel saw it.

It was shit anyways.

When Joel arrived, bubbling over with excitement at the success of his band, the lump nearly suffocated her.

He beamed, scrolling down his band's newly formed Facebook and Instagram feed to show her all the comments. Rory was happy for him. She truly was.

"I'm so happy! That Logan is a genius." He hugged her tight, kissing the top of her head, "How was your trip? Do you want to go out to watch a movie? There's a Tim Burton night at the Cineplex; Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is playing."

Rory felt the dagger sink deeper in her heart.

"It was good." Her smile didn't reach her eyes.

Sitting in the dark with the psychedelic movie playing on the widescreen and a bucket of salted-caramel popcorn was a tad comforting.

The lump in her throat subsided a little.

It was completely pushed to the back of her mind as she warped herself in Joel's love bubble and he whispered in her ear how amazing she was.

Then it returned, double the size when Monday rolled around and she had to go to work.

**~w~**

* * *

"Ben my computer crashed. Ron from IT is looking at it. Kate and I are going out for coffee." Rory announced, rushing through Ben's open-door armed with her camera. The sunlight was perfect, and coffee was a good excuse to snap some urban spring pictures.

She did a double-take when her eyes fell on the man sleeping on the couch with Ben's baby carefully secured on his chest. Logan.

She snaps the picture almost instinctively without thinking.

His pale-blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. One hand supporting the baby's bottom, the other resting lightly on her back. The baby girl was sleeping too, fist cradled under her chin. His socks had Shushi print on them.

Ben looked at her over his glasses, "I want a copy of that. You can go get coffee."

"What's with him?"

"He's sleeping. She's not crying. I'm not complaining." Ben looked on the scene contently, "You should see him play Barbie. That's picture-worthy too."

It wasn't too odd to spot Logan playing with the kids that occasionally visited the office. Mostly Ben's girls. Considering he was MIA for the majority of the month it was odd he was in the office at all.

Rory sent him a sly smile. Snapping another picture, just in case, and a close-up.

**~w~**

* * *

"How did you hear about this?" Rory giddily cruised through the _Theo Chocolate Factory_'s gift shop. She and Joel have just finished the factory tour, tasting throughout amazing organic delights.

The smell of fresh chocolate filled her nose.

Joel balanced the various chocolate packages she loaded on him, "I googled 'Chocolate' and 'Seattle' – it came up. Don't you think you have enough?"

Rory held a spoonful of chocolate-covered raisins mid-air. She wasn't sure whether raisins were considered a fruit. "There's never enough chocolate in the Gilmore rulebook."

"Logan said you liked chocolate, but I didn't think this much."

"What?" She turned to look at her boyfriend. The sweet, creamy chocolate taste that lingered in her mouth suddenly turning stale.

"I mean, I know you like that chocolate factory movie with the creepy little men. So I thought you'd like the tour. What's the rule book?"

"The Oompa Loompas aren't weird. They make the movie." Rory defended, "Why would you talk to Logan?"

"He's cool," Joel admitted uncomfortably, he was getting the impression she wasn't happy about it.

**~w~**

* * *

Rory reached for the top drawer in her desk to grab a fresh pad of sticky notes. She had to juggle it a little when it didn't open with the regular ease. Maybe something got crocked.

When it opened, Rory stared at its contents in shock. It was full, corner to corner, of Mars bars.

"One day you are gonna develop a type 2 diabetes." Nicole peered at the open drawer, "and make your dentist filthy rich."

There was a note too: "RETURNED WITH INTEREST."

Rory shut the drawer a little too forcefully.

**~w~**

* * *

**July 2012**

"God is my witness I'll break into song and dance once he takes off to New York." Shiri collapsed into the spare chair in the girl's office around lunchtime. Her makeup bag closely clenched to her chest. "I've already booked his ticket and I'm counting back the minutes."

Kate shook her head and tried to sound encouraging, "It can't be that bad."

"It is. I dare you to go in there and tell him we're going out for lunch, because Ben is out." Shiri challenged the graphic designer. "That man needs to get laid. ASAP. He was so much nicer when he was banging that doctor left and right."

"Maybe Rory should go." Nicole piped up.

Rory sprayed her coffee, "Excuse me?"

"You're pretty, your skirt is on the short side and your shirt is oddly see-through today," Nicole gave her the once over smirking, "Give him the puppy eyes. He always agrees when you ask."

"It is not see-through."

"You're like buddies, no?" Shiri countered, "Double dates, inner Yale jokes, you know some of his best friends."

How did she know all that? Finn only called her once.

"Doing your laundry together." Kate chipped in.

God. Kate just made doing your laundry sound dirty. Rory thought that was something only her mother could do.

"You know, come to think of it, Logan does look like a guy who takes his laundry very seriously." Shiri mused, "His shirts are 100% cotton and always pressed. He must strictly follow his degenerate instructions."

"He must separate the whites from his funny socks." Kate contributed her two cents.

"He always smells of lavender too. My money is on the Ultra Downy fabric softener. It has the best smell." Nicole said knowingly.

"He uses Tide pods." Rory internally cringed when Kate's eyes light up with glee. She shouldn't have allowed herself to get dragged into this conversation.

"Argh," Nicole swooned, "My kind of man. So sensible."

"Fine, I'll go." Rory left her chair heading towards his office. "You are all disturbed."

"I'd just wish they'd fuck and get that out of their system."

"Nicole, honey, that ship is by Fiji by now." Shiri checked her nails casually, "Logan sampled the juice for sure. It's why she protests so much."

**~w~**

* * *

**New York**

"Hello." Phebe's small fingers poked his eyes, "Wake up, wake up."

Logan kept pretending to sleep. He was awake long before she stripped the pillow off his head. He heard her come in and secretly peered at her clumsy attempt to climb on the bed quietly.

"You have to wake up to see the baby."

Logan grinned at the 4 years old's excitement for her little brother. Honor had her latest child in May. He got the new while he was doing his Vancouver Island's 75km long trail.

"Mommy said that if the door isn't locked, I can come in, because you don't have a guest." Phebe bounced on top of the covers, "Mommy is silly".

Clever Honor. He brought Dawn along to his last New York visit post his Pacific Trail hike. It was an interesting experiment, to say the least. Logan had a lot of his soul-searching questions answered watching her interact with his New York life.

"Mommy is silly?" he repeated in question.

"You can't have guests when you're sleeping." She said as a matter of fact, "You have to entertain them."

Logan smiled at her logic, "It's something adults do sometimes."

Phebe seemed satisfied with the answer and he was kind of relieved. "You sleep funny."

"I sleep funny?"

Phebe nodded, "You don't wear Pajamas."

"Pajamas are for sissies." Her eyes widened at his word slip. Oops. He'll be in trouble later when that gets repeated.

"How come you don't have a baby? Mommy has three." Phebe had the habit of asking him the hardest questions.

"Mommy is older than I."

"Not by a lot." Good point. Clever girl. "Can you take me on a date too?"

He looked at his niece her baffled, "How do you know what a date is?"

"Mommy says It's like a playdate, can we go to the Zoo?"

"If we can convince Grandpa to spare me for the day. Where's Amelia?" Logan inquired after her older sister.

Phebe yelped with joy, "Can Amelia not come?"

Logan decided not to argue with her wish. Sometimes big sisters were a pain in the ass.

**~w~**

* * *

"Phebe asked me how come I don't have kids today."

Honor chuckled. Her hands busy preparing bottles of formula, "She's at that age where they ask tough questions. I was worried she'd feel neglected with all the baby stuff. But she's so excited you're here. I think she forgot."

"I need to tell you something." Logan looked at his sister seriously.

Honor took in his suspicious nervousness, "What did you do? I'm not talking to dad for you."

"Nothing. It's nothing like that. But you can't tell anyone."

"I knew it!" Honor clapped excitedly her facing breaking into a grin, "Let me tell you I was starting to lose hope. But I knew it the moment you brought her for a visit…. She's great, Logan. When are you planning to pop the question?"

"I am looking into surrogacy options." Logan bites his lips uncomfortably while his sister stares at him in shock. Processing.

"Funny Logan, HA-HA. Stop pulling my leg." She left out a stunned laugh which slowly subsided when his expression didn't change. Realization slowly sunk in. "You're not kidding."

"No." he confirmed.

"What about Dawn?"

"Dawn and I broke up."

He was contemplating the future of that relationship ever since he came back from the Pacific Trail. Once the plane touched ground in Seattle after their New York in late May, he knew it was over.

"Why? When?"

"A while ago. It wasn't a fit," He elaborated under his sister's hot eyes, "She doesn't want kids. That's kind of a deal-breaker."

"Mom and Dad were just climbing that tree so they wouldn't come across as racist. Give it time." Honor advised, "Let this relationship go its course, don't rush it."

Logan shook his head, "I'm not going to wait for someone, who might never be ready, to want what I want. I've learned my lesson."

"Logan, she isn't Chelsea. She's at the start of her career, a very demanding career. I understand why that's not her top priority right now." Honor reasoned, "I didn't know a baby was yours either."

"Not a word. You have to promise. Not even to Josh."

"You can't be serious… He's my husband!"

"You're my sister."

"I… Logan, what the hell? What has gotten into you?" Honor looked flustered, "I don't understand. Why are you even considering it? How long?"

How long? Since May, since California, since Ben's baby, since he packed up his life in London and went back to America. Since 2008.

"A while." He answered vaguely, "What difference does it make? If I was a woman – or gay - you would be egging me on saying 'go on sister'. Why the double standard?"

"Because that's not how I want that for you."

"I don't need to be in a relationship to be a parent. It's redundant."

"Trust someone who knows. It's not redundant." Honor's hand covered his, "You're my little brother, I love you, I want you to find someone who can carry the burden and joy with you. Not like this."

Logan clenched his jaw.

"I don't have time for that. Honor, do you think I'll have time to take my kid to the Zoo once he retires and I take over?" he pointed out, "You, out of everyone, knows how it is gonna be."

"It will be what you make of it." Honor said firmly, "Dad made his own choices. You're not dad, Logan."

"And I don't want to be." Logan breathed out frustrated, "I really need you in my corner on this, Honor."

"Name one man you know who raises a child on his own."

"Ronaldo."

"I don't know who that is. Name someone I know."

"He's a famous soccer player." Logan searched his brain, "Tom Hanks."

"Tom Hanks is married with four kids." Honor argued.

"In _Sleepless in Seattle_."

"Seriously Logan, that's your argument? A movie about a man who is obsessively mourning his idyllic lost-love on the radio and a woman who fantasizes falling in love feels like magic? That's your go-to reference for a life plan? Get a puppy."

Honor wished she could take her words back at her brother's expression. Foot in her mouth.

"I like Meg Ryan, she's foxy."

"Are you?" Honor sighed.

"Am I what?"

"Sleepless in Seattle?"

He didn't answer her question, "People with less means than I have managed it."

"You're still so young. Are you serious about this?" Honor sighed again, "Who else have you told?"

Logan simply nodded, "Ben. You two can form a club."

**~W~**

* * *

Rory noticed the band stirred away from experimental jazz, sticking with the classics.

The mid-summer event of the Lorelai Gilmore Planetarium at Yale was her grandmother's pride and joy. Rory was happy to stand back watch the various guests in their best attire mingling with their Champagne flutes. Her grandparents were dancing. Emily Gilmore LOVED dancing.

When her grandfather asked if Rory would like to attend this year, Emily's face lit up like tonight's full moon. Her relations with one Gilmore matriarch was already in shambles, she couldn't bear inflicting any more disappointment and grudge-holding. Rory agreed.

She didn't imagine, but she should have guessed, it would involve her awarding some Ph.D. candidate with a scholarship. But at least it didn't involve wearing a tiara.

"A planetarium in your name, who would have thought."

Rory tore her eyes off the jazz band playing 'Take 5'. Her golden pleated skirt rippled around her legs with the motion, facing the unexpected guest. There he stood, black fitted suit, crisp white dress-shirt, thin black tie, and that teasing smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here every year. Your grandparents are friends of the family. A Huntzberger representative is mandatory."

"Every year?" His admission caught her off guard. Maybe not that unexpected, but unexpected to her all the same.

"My father feels inferior to scholarly physicists. He delegates." He supplied an additional explanation, "But I do like space and Yale. This is one of the few events I don't mind."

"I see."

"You're very formal tonight." Logan stuck his hands in his dress pant pockets.

"What?" She smoothed her hands over her golden midi-skirt. She had tried not to look heavily formal but still dignified.

"Just your tone, it's formal."

"Well, it just the way it is." Rory crossed her hands over the middle of her black lace bodysuit.

"Okay… I get the sense that you're mad at me. Why are you mad at me?"

"Well, you're just everywhere. Did it ever occur to you that maybe when my boyfriend takes me out - you and your girlfriend are not invited? That gas-lighting my boyfriend is not appreciated? Or maybe when I said stay out of my chocolate drawer, I meant exactly that; stay out."

"Okay, I can defend myself on one or two of these points as well..."

"No, you can't."

"I owed you based on previous loans. I didn't gaslight him. J didn't seem to mind; it was a fun night."

"Yes J," Rory sneered at the nickname, "Thinks you're the best thing since sliced bread."

"I was just helping the kid out. I did him a favor, It worked; I hear he's on tour."

He was. Touring the West Coast for the summer with various gigs over small music festivals. When he broke the news about the band's summer plans, Rory concluded they should take some time apart. That hasn't gone down the best way.

She didn't want to hold him back from the full tour experience.

Maybe she jumped the gun.

"You and me, very different people. I have to go talk to people." She turned from him straight into the grinning face of Mali Rosen. Her grandmother's DAR friend.

"Rory," The older woman put her hands on her shoulders, air-kissing both her cheeks. "What a wonderful speech. Your grandparents said you're based out west, but I hope we'll see more of you with the board of trustees from now on. Richard and Emily are so lucky to have such an accomplished granddaughter."

"I.. Thank you?" Rory felt Logan's hand on her elbow. "Mrs. Rosen, surely you know Lo.."

"Oh, Logan is practically family. I didn't know you knew Rory?"

"We work together." She threw an annoyed glare his way when he applied pressure on her elbow.

"Mali. Always a pleasure." He offered no farther pleasantries and turned on his society smile. Rory read between the lines; it wasn't a pleasure.

"It's nice to see the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Mali Rosen wore the same look her grandmother wore when stumbled upon a worth piece of gossip, "Logan has always been incredibly immersed in his work. You must make Mitchum proud."

"Is Aaron in attending? I wanted to pick his brain on the same-sex-marriage bill."

Why would he refer to Congressman Rosen by his given name? Rory was entirely confused at the whole exchange. It sounded incredibly hostile for practically family.

Mali Rosen's botox-ed face flattened a little, "Unfortunately, no."

"Perhaps next time." Logan smiled coolly, "Would you excuse us, Mali?"

**x`x**

"What was that about?" Rory whispered loudly. She was a little light-headed by the skillful manner he led her away by just elbow. "Congressman Rosen voted against the same-sex bill. Four years ago."

"Yes, I know." He said, "I'm sorry you got caught up in it. Despicable woman."

Caught up in what? The whole encounter was just odd, "Why did she say you're practically family?"

"When you marry someone, you marry their family too." He grabbed a bottle of champagne on his way, "I think it's time we get out of here, what do you say?"

**~w~**

* * *

They didn't go far. Ending up in the planetarium dome room, drinking straight from the bottle, the projected cosmos night sky above them. It was a magical moment: The combination of music blasting from the surround system and the reflections of light and awe playing on his face.

Or maybe it was just being in his proximity. Alone.

"Have you done this before? Breaking and entering?" Rory was pretty sure they weren't allowed here.

"No. First time."

"I don't believe you." She said, he managed to work the video-audio system afterall.

He chuckled, "First time with you."

God, he was so charming when he wanted to be.

"Although I don't think it qualifies if you own the building, Ms. Gilmore." He passed her the bottle.

"You really are enjoying this, aren't you?" Rory drained the last drops of the bubbly.

"You have no idea." He tilted the seat as back as possible, resting his hands behind his head, "Did you know there may be a star made of diamonds? There's a professor here researching it."

"Fun fact to run by my grandmother." Rory put the empty bottle aside, leveling her seat down, "You are such a geek, Huntzberger."

"Maybe we're not that different you and I." He grinned at her, his dimples flashing, "Have you ever christened it?"

"Is this my boss asking?" Rory hoped the darkness was thick enough to cover her profound embarrassment.

"I'm not your boss tonight Rory. We're not in Seattle."

Rory studied his face while his words registered. A wrinkle in time. Was he offering?

"You're crazy. Anyone could come in." She sat up leaning on her elbows.

"That's half the fun." His hand touched her bicep lightly turning her towards him. His grin stretched, "Something stupid, something bad for you."

"Logan.."

"Rory, am I stepping on anyone's toes?"

She knew that any indication for 'yes' he'd completely back off. She shook her head.

When he kissed her, Logan wasn't at all sure that he could have ever walked away from unraveling Rory Gilmore under the cosmic projection.


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: I hope you are all well in these times of global turbulence. Please keep yourself and your dear ones safe and healthy. __I thank you for again for coming along for the ride of establishing this universe. __Always happy to read your reviews and thoughts. I love them and I love you all._

_A lot of stuff happened in the last chapter, things will start to become much clearer in the next few chapters. Their story arcs are coming tighter together.  
Quick relevant recap: Rory started at Current in Oct 2008. Logan left to London at June 2008. __The planetarium scene is set in July 2012 and where we take off for this one..._

* * *

**July 2012**

"There's a bed sheet rope at the bottom of my closest if you're looking for a way out." Logan's drowsy voice was muffled by the pillow over his head.

The vibration of his voice sent a shudder down her spine. Soon after their second rendezvous he had lulled to sleep, like he hadn't slept in days.

Logan Huntzberger was not a cuddler.

"I was not.." Rory hugged the sheet closer to her chest. Sneaking out had slipped in and out of her mind sporadically while dreamland possessed him. Her golden sandals laid by the door. Her skirt pooled, wrinkled, on the floor. God knows where her bra ended up. Or her panties.

Rory didn't trust she could orientate her way out of this huge mansion.

But her mind was more occupied with tracing back how she had ended up here.

In his childhood bed.

**~x~**

_After the frantic groping antics under her namesake roof, Rory's brain was jumbled ball of cotton. A mix of ignited rush and inebriated lust. She nearly smacked him when he beamed her with a satisfied smoldering grin; "Aren't you glad I locked the doors?"_

_She jabbed the side of his ribs instead. Her head resting on a warm exposed patch of bare chest skin where his white linen shift came undone. Between the haste and the secrecy, they kept undressing to a minimum. Skirts came in handy Rory noted to herself. _

_They slipped out quietly, leaving the incriminating bottle of champagne behind. When his hand clasped on her wrist's pulse point, all thoughts of biding Emily and Richard goodbye flew out of the window. _

_Her grandmother could smell sin like her mother could smell snow._

_"Where to?" His car keys glinted in the night. His question lingered in the New England summer air._

_"Surprise me, Huntzberger." She found herself saying just to see the sparks fly in his eyes._

_She never guessed what would follow is her tiptoeing barefoot after his pineapple socks on the cold marble floor of the Huntzberger mansion in Hartford. Because: "New York is too far away."_

_Or Dave Matthews Band's 'Crash' record on low and repeat while they made out like teenagers on his adolescence bed. Until they couldn't take it._

_He didn't even try to undress her for the first hour, which she can't say for herself. His hand felts stronger than she remembered six months back. His shoulders, too, had the additional muscle to them. The secrets his dress shirt hid didn't measure to the one in his eyes._

_She wanted them all. _

**~x~**

"You were thinking it." He murmured shuffling around to lay on his side, the sheets rustling along with his motions. His hair stuck out disheveled in all directions.

His ability to read her mind was spooky.

"You can sneak out from the window at Honor's room, grab the balcony rail and climb down the tree."

How he could form a coherent thought just upon waking up? She wanted his superpowers.

"There are twelve secret ways to get out of this house. I can tell you all of them." He conspired hoarsely, his head resting on his arm, "Or we sleep and I'll take you home in the morning. I'm beat."

"Home is 2940 miles away."

Seattle. This will not exist in Seattle. And they both know it.

"So this is where it Logan Huntzberger first became a man?"

The soft bedding smelt fresh although the room looked permanently unoccupied. The walls were bare and impersonal. No personal items laid out on display. She doubted he spent much time here.

Maybe it has been renovated.

He lets out a laugh, "No, that happened three houses down."

"With Chelsea? How old were you?"

"Yes, she was my every first." He nods, his voice velvet-like as if revealing a secret, "Sixteen. You?"

"Dean. He was my first and third boyfriend." Rory pulled the sheet tighter to her body unconsciously hiding, "There's nothing to tell, it wasn't that special."

"First times are always special." Logan's hand played with her hair gently.

She envied him.

By far this was the strangest and most unexpected pillow talk she ever had.

"It was a mistake. He was married to someone else at the time."

As much as she resented Lorelai for ruining the afterglow with her judgmental preaching, in retrospect, she was right. It was the wrong way, the wrong time, possibly the wrong person.

Rory sometimes wondered if that was the life-changing-moment that set her lifepath the way it turned out.

Her mom also deemed Logan Huntzberger a bad idea. Maybe that was true. It didn't add up with how damn good it while it lasted. There was something about him. Something different. She couldn't pin-point what.

"What is with you and that?" He wondered but didn't press for an answer. His finger traced the invisible scar that Miranda Grant's diamond left on her cheek.

Dean was Dean. Jason was fun. She didn't know he was married when it started. She just liked the attention. She liked being chased.

She didn't want him to know that. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between them devouring his lips. His hand supported the back of her head while his mouth eased their lips into a long lazy kiss. Tuning down her enthusiasm;

"It hurts my ego to admit, but I really am beat."

Her hand traced lightly over his smooth jaw down to his collar bone watching his eyelashes turn heavy with sleep. One foot hooked over her ankle.

"Logan," Rory Gilmore just had to know, "Is there really a bed sheet rope in your closet?"

His lips lifted upward a little, "I guess you'll never know."

**~w~**

"I'll see you when I'll see you?" Logan's hand hovered far enough from her elbow to remain intimate but still not touching. A distance inflicted by the elder Gilmore driveway.

"I'll see you when I'll see you." Rory simply agreed.

She pulled out the key from her purse as he drove away. It contained the small camera her dad got her for Christmas. Rory realized she hadn't pulled it out in hours. Too caught up in the moment to step back and freeze it.

Maybe over-analyzing all the complications was unnecessary.

Rory decided she didn't give a fuck. In the end, this was actually simple.

"Was that Logan Huntzberger I saw leaving?" Richard Gilmore's face hid behind the economic section of the newspaper when she entered the dining room. Her grandmother had not joined yet.

Rory's eyes fell on the remains of red grapefruit laid out before him. Emily Gilmore kept a strict diet to control his blood pressure. Grapefruits were forbidden.

Rory remembered how thrilled Lorelai was to have scientific proof that fruits are bad for you.

"Grandma won't approve." She mentioned at the fruit.

Richard Gilmore flipped a page on the paper and pushed the plate closer to his granddaughter.

"Then it is best we don't tell your grandmother."

**~w~**

* * *

"You're in a good mood," Kate observed. She split the chocolate muffin into two and offering the bigger portion to Rory. Nicole has convinced Kate to join her no-sugar diet.

Kate was cheating. That's why they took their ten past ten coffee break outside.

"You straightened out things with your mom?"

Rory returned from the East Coast charged with some unexplained energy.

"No, she still thinks I'm a slut," Rory announced and pressed the hot beverage cup to her lips.

"She cares." Kate tried to offer another perspective.

"I doubt she'll ever speak to me again. I don't care what she thinks anymore." Rory ignored Kate's skeptical face. She didn't even try to make contact with Lorelai these days. "Do you think I should publish it?"

"That's what you planned to do." Kate shrugged, "But now, are you sure?"

"No. I mean…. You liked it. My dad said it was cool. Joel thinks it's 'interesting'." Rory air quoted, "Mom hated it."

"Joel?" Kate couldn't contain her surprise, "I thought that was off. Tour and all…"

"It's back on." Rory waved uncommitted, "I think."

"You think?"

"He was in town a few days ago. He stopped by." Rory dismissed the subject. There wasn't much to say. They agreed to see what happens when the tour is over in September.

"Considering the only reluctant supporters are the ones who have legitimate issues with the idea of your 'whoring ways'. Maybe you should run it by someone neutral."

"Like who?"

"This diet is so harsh." Kate took a bite out of the muffin moaning with pleasure, "I don't know. Maybe Ben?"

**~w~**

* * *

Rory clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap nervously. They were uncharacteristically sweaty.

Sitting in Ben's office was never nerve-wracking like it was today. Shiri has raised a questioning eyebrow at her when she closed the door after her. The rare times Ben's open-door policy was broken was when he and Logan huddled inside.

Rumor has it Logan was in London. He phoned Kate on conference earlier that day.

Rory busied her eyes looking around the office as he shuffled the manuscript pages around reading. Ben's office was less sterile than Logan's. A picture of his family decorated his desk. A leafy plant stood next to the green couch.

Why was the couch in his office if Logan was the one constantly sleeping on it?

"You want my honest opinion?" Ben fingers drummed on the sheet then smoothed over it.

Rory second-guessed herself. Ben's solemn expression didn't indicate anything and that was terrifying.

She nodded slowly. At least she'd know if to finally ax and bury it. What could he possibly have to say that was worse than what her toughest critic hadn't already said?

"I don't get it. Where's the funny?"

"The funny?" She repeated processing his words.

"Comics are supposed to be funny? Are they not?"

"Not necessarily." Rory hesitated pulling her skirt down nervously, "I don't think so…They graphically tell a story."

"The drawing is quite eye-catching. Glossy, quite photographic. You did that?"

"Thank you?" She nodded. Rory couldn't figure out whether he meant it a compliment.

"Um.." Ben hummed pushing his glass up to his nose, "I'm just a little lost on the concept. Explain that to me again. I'm thinking…" Ben sighed confused, "Who is the audience?"

People like her mother.

"I'm not sure… Kate likes it. It's… um… installments of navigating the search for love?" Rory stumbled on the words rubbing her wrist together, "From a personal perspective."

Rory didn't know why she hesitated in her pitch. Maybe because she didn't think of it like that until this very moment.

"A quest for love. Interesting." Ben stroked his chin, "Is this a gender bias thing? I don't get it because I'm a guy? Can I show this to Priscilla? She's a woman maybe that's… You know, it won't hurt running this with another trained eye."

Rory's face brightened up for the first time since she took a seat across his desk. Maybe this was going somewhere. Maybe it wasn't a total pile of shit.

"Any suggestions?"

"Hugo, maybe. You're still in touch with him?" Ben considered at loud, his eyes fixed on another sheet. "He's into the social state-of-mind stuff."

Rory cocked her head thoughtfully, Hugo could work. He was her only valid contact in media. Although it wasn't up his alley. "I could…"

"Logan." Ben interrupted her decisively, "You can't get a better intuition than Logan's."

Rory's face dropped, "Suggest someone else."

Ben's blinked at her response, a question passing his features, slowly catching on, "Is he in it?"

Rory bit her lip. Averting her eyes.

"Right." Ben's hand dropped the pages like a hot potato, "Let's take a walk. I don't want to discuss this here. Bring that thing with you."

**~w~**

Rory's heels tried to keep up with the tall man's strides. The soft drizzle of Seattle's summer rain made the sidewalks a bit slippery. The tiny drops of rain stained her suede shoes. Ben finally settled on a corner table in a coffee shop three blocks away from the office.

He still looked tense. A scrambled expression graced his face like he didn't know where to start. Rory's fingers rested protectively on the comics folder equally tense.

"Do you know why I hired you?" he finally asked once when the waitress took their order and left.

Rory tried to connect the dots between conversations.

"I wasn't even going to call you in for an interview. You had next to no experience relevant to what we were looking for. And Logan was..." Ben left it at that, "But Hugo sent you my way, and he's one of the most selective men I know."

Rory didn't know if it was meant as a compliment; "Thank you, I guess...?"

"Do you remember I asked you why you take photographs?" She nods, "You said something about the sense of the moment."

"Yes… Freezing happiness." Rory corrected.

The edges of Ben's serious mouth twitched momentarily into a hint of a smile. "You had that look in your eyes, hungry to re-invent yourself fresh. Breakaway from invisible cables."

Rory was caught off guard. She didn't know it showed.

"Logan has that look all the time." Ben glanced at her carefully, "I knew he would have hired on you on the spot."

The waitress returned with their coffee. Rory's steaming hot, Ben's iced.

"Yes, he does." Rory concurred confused, "What does it have to do with the comic…"

Ben took off his glasses, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt. His nervous tell.

"Current was my idea. Something I've always toyed with. It was my 'I-have-this-brilliant-idea-for-a start-up' topic at the pub after work. But I was never gonna go for it. I'm not a 'throw-caution-to-the-wind' kind of guy."

Understatement. Rory thought silently. She was even more confused but he looked far from finished.

"I just graduated from Columbia, I had tons of student loans. I was beyond happy to continue working for Mitchum Huntzberger under a well-established media conglomerate umbrella. Regular paycheck and all…"

Ben's brown eyes bore into her face, "Until I met Logan."

Rory shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "Umm Ben, that's nice, but what does this have to do with..."

"I don't know how he does it, he just … sniffs opportunities. Current wouldn't exist without Logan. He's the spirit behind it. He's the execution. He's a magnetic force."

Rory couldn't help but think how fitting the description was.

"And he sacrificed a lot to pull it all off the ground."

Rory tried to salvage where Ben was going with this.

"This isn't about the comics." Rory cast her eyes down to the steaming cup.

"No. Yes." Ben paused, "What I'm trying to say is that I get the attraction. Cursing with Logan is exciting. It gets you places you could never imagine. He's fearless and cocky as hell, and he doesn't apologize for it... because he usually gets what he wants."

Rory peered at her boss under lowered lashes. She was getting the impression he knew more than he cared to admit.

"He not the fuck around kind of guy he makes himself out to be," Ben stated swashing the ice cubes in his milk beverage.

Rory sneered skeptically. All evidence said differently.

"Bad choice of words." Ben tucked at his shirt collar uncomfortably, "Honestly? I don't want to know the details. I warned him against this infatuation. The whole legal aspect with Current just complicates things even more…."

"Logan and I are not… involved." Rory clarified. Logan was very clear on what he wanted and on what terms.

"He thinks he has it all figured out with this take on the world, Kawa-Banga dude, ready to jump attitude - but he really doesn't."

"Why are you telling me this?" Rory looked sadly at her cooling coffee.

"I like you, Rory. I don't want you to get hurt." Ben leaned forward, his voice down a notch like he was revealing something that he shouldn't, "He's in a weird funk right now. His life in New York looks nothing like the life he leads here. At some point, that's bound to catch up with him. He knows that, and you should keep that in mind too."

"Huntzberger obligations."

Rory wished she kept her associations concealed because Ben looked near panicked to hear her use the exact phrase. "What do you know about that?"

"I'm not a stranger to New England elite." She confessed uneasily, "Yale has a planetarium in my name."

"God, this is a lot worse than I initially thought," Ben muttered taking off his glasses. Rory watched her boss hold his nose between finger and thumb in frustration half talking to himself. "I was so off the mark, you're not another 'Bobbi', you're a 'Chelsea'."

"I'm Rory." Who the fuck was Bobbi?

"Look, no one knows better than me that taking a risk with Logan pays off." His expression looked pained, "Which just makes what I'm going to ask so unfair… I'm begging you not to take it."

"I… what?"

"Please, please, don't encourage him. He's already spiraling out on me." Ben finished his plea and pulled the comics folder from under her hands, "Now, let's see what we can do about that."

Rory blinked. She's been warned.

"I'd put it on Facebook to gauge reaction." Ben suggested, "See what audience it draws naturally before you try to push it further. Do you have a title for it?"

"Facebook?"

"How do they say?" Ben searched his brain, "If you post it - they will come."

"You mean: if you build it - they will come." Rory looked at him oddly. The paraphrase didn't sit well. Ben wasn't that into baseball, or one to quote inspiring lines from Kevin Costner's 'Field of Dreams' movie.

Logan was, though.

"He said that to me, and I'm saying that to you." Ben seemed to pick up on her intuition, "Because I'm flying blind here. Strategy is Logan's thing."

Rory could only nod. Yes. He gets off on that stuff.

"You might want to censor the names."

**~w~**

* * *

**August 2012**

"Did someone leave the coffee out or something? It tastes like shit." Rory pouted into the coffee she just spat.

Summer was in full effect and so was her AC inflicted cold. Nothing tasted the way it should. Even the coffee. Mostly the coffee. If a few days ago she couldn't smell things at all, now even the smell of Chinese from lunch made her queasy.

And Rory loved Chinese.

"The coffee is fine. It tastes exactly the same." Shiri took a seat across from her, "You have a cold. Eat a chocolate to cover the aftertaste."

Rory frowned at the office manager. She didn't want to eat chocolate. Especially not the _Lindt_ ones by the coffee maker in the break room. The ones with Duty-Free sticker and Pound sterling price stamped on the back.

They had a different kind of aftertaste.

Plus, she knew where they came from and who brought them.

Rory struggled to completely shake that cold off. She found herself falling asleep on the couch for the third consecutive night before the late-night came on. She hoped to kick it off soon because she had two weddings this weekend.

"I told you, you need to eat more fruit." Nicole scolded, "Oranges, Strawberries, Kiwi. Brings up your Vitamin C."

Rory gave her pseudo-dietitian co-worker a frustrated look. That wasn't going to happen.

Working with a runny nose was just a nuisance.

It was the two days later that Rory started to suspect that maybe something was off.

Kate was devouring a whole chocolate muffin by herself. Rory was drinking water on their ten past ten coffee break. Under normal circumstances, she would be the one ravishing it herself. Under normal circumstances…

"I ate Nicole's apple," Rory blurted out panic written all over her face. "And I liked it."

"Apples are good for you plenty of antioxidants." Kate rolled her eyes, "Nicole will be so pleased to hear that you caved in. And so angry that you ate her lunch."

"I never eat apples!" Rory felt a wave of nausea taking over her. The apple's juices coming back up. She swallowed uncomfortably. "The only time a Gilmore willingly eats fruit is when…"

She didn't complete the sentence watching Kate's face adding up the points.

"First, let's calm down. Take a breath," Kate instructed calmly, "When did you have your last period?"

"June," Rory said in a small voice. "You don't think that I'm…" She couldn't even say the word.

"I don't know. I don't know," Kate tried to assure the panicked twenty-six years old, "It's a possibility, It doesn't mean… And if it does, you have options. Let's just take it one step of the time. There's a ton of options."

"Oh god. This is punishment." A jittery Rory jumped to her feet pacing, "This is god's way of retaliation. The Gilmore curse has been passed on to me. It happened to my mother, and now it has happened to me."

"What you talking about?"

"My mother gets pregnant at 16 because all she cares about is sticking it up to my grandmother by acting all rebellious. Here I am, nearly 26 - a decade older - I do one thing she doesn't approve of - and this happens. It's a curse. Like mother like daughter. A full circle."

"Rory stop being ridiculous. This isn't god's doing, you're not the mother of Jesus." Kate tried to tune down her amusement, "You just had a mishap. It's okay. It happens."

"I NEVER HAVE MISHAPS. I'm Miss Responsibility." Her hands quivered uncontrollably. She shook them furiously trying to regain control.

"Okay, so this is what going to happen." Kate grabbed her hands, "I'm going to tell Ben that we need to step out from the office for a little while. We'll Go to the pharmacy, buy a home test."

"Five. Five tests." Rory muttered.

"Or five. You'll take the test. I'll be there with you. Everything is going to be okay." Kate explained as if she was a child, "And after we'll be wiser, and can think what you want to do and how you're gonna tell Joel."

"Why would I tell Joel?" Rory's voice went a little high. What did this have to do with Joel?!

"Because it is Joel's, right?"

Rory's eyes boggled out, wide like saucers, as she gaped at Kate.

"I think I'm going to be sick."


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: loved, loved, loved, loved, LOVED your reactions to last post. Have to admit it totally threw me off. Still wrapping my head around how well received this is. I thank everyone who took the time to leave a comment. I am thrilled to hear you guys are loving it. I love you.  
The next post might take a little while, I know you're into it, but please bare with me :)  
_

_P.S. I'm quite interested to know what is your favorite scene/moment in this fic so far. Just my pure curiosity. Feel free to drop a line and share._

_Timeline clarification: The last chapter ended at August 2012. I did mess up at first with a typo and it's fixed. Thanks for pointing that out. Aiden is around 3yrs in 2018 to all those who asked. We continue where we left off the last time._

* * *

**August 2012**

Four negative home pregnancy kits. One negative blood test. A nerve-wracking week-long wait for a very anticipated period. Rory was NOT pregnant.

False alarm. What a relief. Everything was alright with the world.

Rory Gilmore could eat Sushi again. She realized she should keep taking the vitamins, though. And the fruit-eating. The things she found in a google search on child defects utterly freaked her out.

Rory shoved the pamphlets she got from the doctor office into her desk's drawer. Carefully hiding them under her dwindling stock of Mars bars.

**~w~**

* * *

"Seriously, Logan, change the ringtone." Ben groaned frustrated.

Everyone at the office was weary of the Cher ringtone. At first, Kate and Shiri broke into a little dance every time 'Strong Enough' shrilled through the office. Logan found it amusing to a point.

The girls' enthusiasm wore off pretty quickly when the frequency of the tune escalated.

It wasn't his regular ringtone. It was an additional one. One that Logan just let ring out unanswered. Some days it rang at all hours of the day. Without fail, it rang two consecutive times before the caller the other end gave up.

It's been going on for weeks.

"It was Finn's idea," Logan silenced the phone. Flipping it to face downwards and continued digging into his lunch. The electronic item kept buzzing on the table. He ignored it. "I'm going hiking this weekend. No cell reception. Wanna come?"

"Does it have to be the campiest song in the world?" Ben was beyond agitated at that point. "I can't. It would stop if you answered it."

"I can talk to Priscilla for you," Logan offered, determined to let the subject slide.

"You really shouldn't."

"I'll offer to babysit," Logan said without a beat.

"Your enthusiasm to babysit creeps me out, Logan." Ben looked equally tempted and worried.

Logan shook his head at his friend.

"Just broody, then," Ben muttered under his breath. Logan ignored him. Like Honor, Ben still has his feathers ruffled over his personal plans.

The Cher tune pierced through the air again.

Ben grabbed the phone and accepted the call before Logan could beat him to it; "Stop calling, Chelsea."

"She was going to get the message, eventually," Logan muttered looking at his friend pissed.

"No, she wasn't. She never does." Ben dropped the phone down like it burnt his fingers. "No need to thank me or anything."

**~w~**

* * *

"Okay, good Miella," Logan commended Ben's oldest while balancing her younger duplicate on his hip, "Now we add the sugar. Be careful, it's hot."

The girl dressed in a purple dress paired with tights and a tight ponytail stood on one of the chairs in the break room by the coffee machine. Logan stood by her side in a t-shirt and slacks combination. His entire attention set on the girl carefully pour a spoonful of white grains into the one of the two cups set before her.

Rory felt the camera working at its own accord. His body tensed immediately at the sound of the shutter closing.

"Do you must?" Logan made a face.

"It's a cute picture," Rory estimated the frozen image carefully, "Babies look good on you."

He looked like a dad.

She felt a weird tag in her when the words left her mouth. Babies and pregnant women were everywhere she looked lately. In the street. In the supermarket. On her Facebook feed. At the wedding she photographed. Pregnant brides. Pregnant bridesmaids.

Maybe they were always there, and she just never noticed.

He looked at her like she got under his skin, quickly slipping into boss mode, "You're late."

"I'll throw in an hour more." Rory rolled her eyes, "Happy?"

"We're making coffee for daddy," Miella informed Rory. "I work here today,"

Summer vacation brought a lot of communion to the office. Last week, Kate's two boys wrestled on the floor after indulging themselves in Rory's chocolate drawer. Nicole announced they weren't allowed back.

Logan switched the sugar with the salt jar while his friend's daughter explained about her 'job'.

"One?" Miella asked, demanding his attention again.

"Two for daddy, he likes it extra sweet," Logan winked while bouncing her sister up, "Doesn't he Andrea? You weren't this heavy last week."

"After I'm done, Shiri will paint my nails." The girl continued chatting more to herself than to Logan.

"That's correct." He confirmed, "It's what the girls in the office do all the time."

Rory shook her head, holding a laugh. She felt him watching her camera suspiciously from the corner of his eye.

"Logan," Shiri's wild curls filled in the spot in the door Rory occupied just minutes ago, "A Jillian Merriweather for you. She says she's with Congressman Rosen."

"Get her number, I'll call her back."

"I can't do that."

"You'll have to because I'm busy," He said through his teeth. "And that is what you are paid to do."

"But…" Shiri started to protest her case only to be interrupted by a deep male voice:

"Logan, I assumed Mitchum taught you better than to keep your guests waiting." Rory's attention snapped from Logan to the impressive man in an expensive suit standing at the door of the breakroom.

Congressman Rosen's hands clasped behind his back. The same signature power-pose her grandfather's mastered. He radiated power.

Rory never saw Logan Huntzberger's composure slip. Until now. He looked perplexed. Sensing the change in him, the baby squirmed in his arms.

"Are you his daddy?" Miella looked at the stranger with interest.

"Almost. Once upon a time."

"Miella," Logan found his best authority voice, "Can you go tell your dad that my friend came to visit?"

The little girl looked at Logan, unsure, "But what about the coffee…"

"Come on, Honey," Shiri hurried to help her off the chair, prying the other child from Logan's arm. "Let's go and paint our nails."

"Rory Gilmore," Congressman Aaron Rosen greeted her briefly for the first time. "I was under the impression you were heading down the political path. It appears the rumors are true."

"Congressman," She acknowledged him politely. What has the gracious tongues of Hartford has been wagging about her? Logan still looked a little off. "It didn't work out."

"I've come to discuss the same-sex marriage bill." Aaron Rosen announced with a loaded tone his eyes back on Logan, "I'll see myself to your office. I trust someone can help my campaign manager set up a laptop while we're at it?"

Logan nodded tensely at the man confident man.

"Logan," Rory searched for words as the congressman back turned. So many questions ran through her mind.

"I can't do this with you right now," He followed the elder to the office and rolled the blinds down.

~w~

Ben's wife came in shortly after the two men locked themselves in the office. The Chinese woman looked like freedom was rubbed off her as she left with her girls. Other than that, the office was unusually quiet. Like they were all trying to eavesdrop on the storm inside Logan's.

So quiet that Kate said she missed the Cher ringtone.

Rory was pretty sure the two were connected. Because why would Logan discuss with his ex-wife's father a bill that passed four years ago?

When Congressman Rosen left the Logan's office, nearly two hours later, Rory could swear the older man was deeply upset. The blinds and the door in Logan's office remained closed.

She was preparing another cup of coffee when jaw-clenched Logan finally stepped out of his office, Ben hot on his heels as he marched intentionally towards the elevators. They huddled for a moment, with Logan repeatedly calling the elevator.

The two coffee cups that Miella prepared still stood lonely. Rory decided to wash them.

On her way back to her desk, she crossed paths with Ben.

"Remember what we talked about," He hissed warning.

~w~

* * *

**September 2012**

Joel clad in hugging blue jeans, white t-shirt plus new halo of confidence chatted Nicole and Kate casually sitting comfortably in her seat.

"Hey, when did you get back?" Rory clenched her notes from the meeting with Ben close to her chest.

"A few hours ago," Joel jumped to his feet, "Came straight to see you."

"He's a keeper that one, Rory. Finally, a step in the right direction," Nicole has romance written all over her face, but didn't fail to use the One Direction butt of the joke.

"Can you cut out for half an hour?" Joel beamed at her, "I've got the best news."

"I… Ben just asked that I… and he needs it by 5 p.m." Rory knew she was fishing and hosing down his fire, "Can it wait till after?"

"Just go," Kate instructed, "I'll work the boss for you."

"You're one awesome Lady, Ms. Katie." Joel fist-bumped Kate not wasting time in pulling Rory away, "I'll have her back in 30 minutes on the dot."

**~w~**

"I got a job, at the bar you go to after work," Joel announced over his coffee, "The pay is decent and they say the band can play regularly once a week."

"What about college?"

"I'm still doing that. But this semester is a lot lighter," Joel assured her, "Anyways, this is what I'm meant to do, you know? Play music. Not sit in class all day."

"Okay," Rory hoped her nod translated as supportive, "If you're sure."

"I am." He looked completely convinced, "Things are looking great. Rolling Stones Magazine contacted us. Rolling Stones, can you believe it?"

She smiled at his enthusiasm.

"They want pictures they can use. Any chance you could help out with that?" He looked kind of embarrassed to ask, "We can't pay you... but…"

"I'd love to." She squeezed his hand warmly, "You don't need to pay me. Consider it a gift."

"Great! We're doing an acoustic show at the bar next week. That would be good, right? Maybe we'll need some more official images too."

"I'm at your service. Anything you want."

"Anything I want?"

"Sure."

"I want you back," He admitted shyly. "I missed you like crazy."

**~w~**

* * *

A firm hand pulled Rory by her elbow into a corner not far from the bar's washroom. "Are you back with him?"

Logan's eyes bore into her face.

"It's none of your business. Let go." He released her arm per her request. She noticed the fresh breaks on his knuckles.

"I was under the impression the kid was out of the picture." Logan's voice went an octave lower, "You said I'm not stepping on anyone's toes. I would have never…"

"It that my boss asking?" She cut him off.

"Are you?" He probed, not providing an answer.

"This is Seattle." Rory said decisively, "Logan, you're the one who said."

"I know what I said!"

"You ain't my boyfriend. And I ain't your girlfriend. Then what the fuck is your problem?" Logan didn't look impressed.

Suits him right.

"Keep it out of the office," Logan said his voice rough around the edges.

"That's rich, the pot calling the cattle black," Rory didn't know where she gathered the spank. "You know, when you divorce someone, you divorce their family too."

Logan's lips shaped into a tight line, "That's not as straightforward as that."

"It is. You stay out of mine; I'll stay out of yours." Rory suddenly appreciated Ben's advice. She should just stay away. "And sort out your hand. It looks bad."

**~w~**

"What is she doing?" Joel refreshed Ben's and Logan's beers looking at his girl concerned. They sat watching the basketball game on the TV behind the bar.

"She's losing her money in darts," Logan stated the obvious.

"Rory doesn't do sport." Joel's quick assessment of his girlfriend state echoed in disbelieve, "She can't be high, right? Rory doesn't touch that stuff."

"Sure she doesn't," Logan looked at the musician behind the bar skeptically. Logan had to admit that while Rory was an easy to stray drunk, a high Rory was far more entertaining. It went straight to her head fast.

"Maybe you should take her home," Joel suggested. Logan barely mastered to cover his uneasiness. The last time he took an intoxicated Rory anywhere got him more than he bargained for. Ben struggled to swallow the huge gulp he took from his beer.

"Game's not over." Ben deflected the suggestion elegantly.

"Don't worry, it's just the boys from work." Logan expression didn't match the worried one of one her boyfriends, "I'll intervene if she starts betting something else. She's not that brave. I've got her covered."

Ben cast Logan a disapproving look. The musician cast another glance at his girlfriend again, she looked like she was having fun. Nicole was around. Joel decided to drop it.

"I got a call from a guy from Rolling Stones magazine, he's doing a piece about 'College bands in the digital sphere'? something like that…" Joel looked at Logan wiping the bar top clean, "Do you think we should do it?"

"It's Rolling Stones," Ben answered in a clipped tone, his eyes glued back on the screen. "You don't turn down Rolling Stones magazine.

Logan rode Ben's answer and shrugged his agreement. "A nudge in the right direction."

"Okay, cool." Joel threw the towel behind the bar turning to serve another customer "Call me if you need anything."

"I know what you're doing." Ben said accusingly when the bartender's back turned, "Cut it out."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Rolling Stones, Logan?"

"I might know a guy."

~w~

"Okay, okay, break it up, guys." Ben left after the Clippers lost. Logan was too ready to leave, "Come on Rory, time to go home."

"Ah, big boss. Way to spoil the fun." He couldn't pinpoint which of the web developers said it. Fortunately to whoever it was, because Logan realized that if he could have - he'd be fired.

"You're not the boss of me. My boyfriend can take me home." She waved loosely in the direction of the bar, "See, he's right over there."

He suspected the merriness didn't wear off yet, the tequila shots the loser was supposed to knock off didn't help either. Rory was a lousy dart player, anyone could tell.

"Your boyfriend asked me. He needs to stay to close up." She still looked defiant, "Tell you what. If I put this dart in the middle, it's home time. If I don't, you can wait for Joel."

Rory seemed to calculate her probabilities.

"Fine." She dared him placing the dart in his hand, "Five steps behind the line."

She could hear the air slice as he shoots the dart, it landed right in the middle. The boys cheered.

Finn's notorious college parties finally came to his advantage. Logan smirked.

"Replay! You cheated." Rory demanded.

"A deal is a deal." He gestured his hand towards the door sliding her camera strap over his neck, "Where's the rest of your stuff?"

"Tell him I'm fine." She turned to Nicole.

"I'm going home too." His other female employee gathered her stuff, passing Logan the rest of Rory's. She wasn't intoxicated as Rory. Probably a better dart shooter as well, "We got to work tomorrow."

"Kiss ass," Rory muttered at Nicole on their way out. She shook his hand off the top her back in protest. "I don't need your hand."

Logan let his hand fall to his side keeping a close eye on her wobbly steps. Allowing her enough space as she walked two steps before him. They might as well walk home if she could manage it, air will do only good.

Nicole got in a taxi. Rory was deliberately ignoring him until she stopped in the middle of the street and took off her heels. "Logan?"

"Yes."

"These stupid heels make my feet hurt and I need a burger."

**~w~**

* * *

Rory busied herself with folding her laundry as Joel browsed the photos on her computer. The guy from Rolling Stones said he'd give her credit and commission if he could use them.

"Can I go through the whole folder?" Joel asked her permission, "I've never seen your pictures."

"I think you saw all the good ones already," Rory didn't try to talk him out of it, "The rest of the pictures there are just pictures of wedding receptions, brides and grooms, autumn leaves and stuff…"

"Umm." Was his only tense response. "Do you have pictures of me?"

"What do you mean?" Rory asked alarmed. "Of course, I do, you just saw them."

"Those are ones I asked you to take," he flipped the computer screen her way, "Which are very different from pictures like this."

The image of Logan sleeping on Ben's couch dominated the screen. The composition of that picture was perfect. It was one of her favorites. "Yeah, so?"

"Aren't you going to explain that?"

"I think that's self-explanatory."

"What's with you and him?" Joel dreaded the answer more than he dreaded asking. How can one question be so justified, yet so loaded?

"Nothing. He's my boss. You know that." Rory grabbed another load of items from the laundry basket. Folding her underwear very intentionally. "It's just a picture, Joel."

"He's more than your boss."

"We hang out with everyone else from the office. In a group."

"That's it?" Joel didn't look convinced.

"Yes. That's it."

If you leave out smoking joints in alleys, midnight hamburgers, and all the other things she's not allowed to think of, because that reality doesn't exist in Seattle.

"I can never quite tell if you two are actually friends," Joel pointed out, "One minute you have this weird banter where no one else can get a word in - and the next you act like he is a nuisance."

"You're reading too much into it." Rory decided a change in subject was the only way to stop this awkward conversation. "I thinking we should order Pizza tonight, what do you say?"

"Fine. Can I ask you something?" She nodded, "Were you with anyone else while I was on tour?"

"What?" Rory took the bait, "Why would you ask me that?"

"Just wondering, because those aren't my socks," Joel looked at the Candy Cane socks in her laundry basket suspiciously. "Whose socks are that?"

Rory cringed at the awful awful timing for the socks to make an entrance.

"Logan's."

"Why would you have Logan's socks?" The musician looked down at his empty hands.

She had them because wearing his socks instead of walking barefoot in the street, seemed like a good idea at the time. When he took her home from the bar the other night.

"He must have left them in the dryer." The lie burnt her tongue. She couldn't possibly tell him the sock's story. Not when he had his feathers ruffled over some stupid picture.

"God, I'm such an idiot." Joel talks but more to himself than to her. His hands running through his brown locks distressed, "I can't believe I trusted the smooth, skillful son of a bitch. It was him, wasn't it? All this time I've been taking his career advice. Listening to his Kwan bullshit…"

"He wasn't wrong about that," She can't help it but defend him. Although once it's out there, she knows it's the wrong move.

"No, it just turns out that he has been fucking my girlfriend behind my back." Joel let out a surreal laugh, shaking his head, "And stupid, gullible me. You know I tried to ignore this. I don't know what the hell I was thinking. Asking him to take you home. It's so obvious."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want to be with me Rory."

"Yes, I do."

"Oh please. You're into him, and he's into you. Everyone can see Rory! Everyone. So, go ahead. Be with him, there's nothing standing in your way now, because I'm out."


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: Earlier than expected! Hope you are all safe. Thank you for your reviews. I did my little research on the fertility stuff, but if some is inaccurate let's just chuck it for literacy freedom for the sake of the story.  
_

_So Rory's birthday..._

* * *

**October 2012**

**_New York_**

It's Saturday. Logan pitied people who willingly worked Saturdays for most of his life. His father called them ambitious. He was one of them now. Actually, the only time he isn't working is when he is hiking.

That, among other things, will have to change once he'll achieve what he came looking for in this doctor's office. Logan was a man with a plan. Even if he couldn't fully foresee what it will entail.

Or his father's response.

Logan toyed with the kinetic solar system miniature model on the doctor's desk. Shifting Venus away from Mars. He should get one for his desk, too.

When the door opened and Dr. Lockheart entered, he jumped back in his seat.

"Okay, Logan. Sorry to keep you waiting," The female doctor smiled warmly and took the seat behind the desk. She woke up the computer with a click on her keyboard. Her attention divided between the monitor and browsing his file. "How are we feeling today?"

"It's okay." It was his fourth visit. Her professional friendless made him feel nervous each time. He should have chosen a male doctor. "Fine."

It nearly felt like he was back in the principle's office. He sure spent his fair share of time in those. For a moment, he wished to be that boy again. Back to a time when life was simple, and his father's money fixed every wrong turn he took.

"So, your sperm count is good. The surrogate report good health. Unfortunately, the last cycle didn't catch. Same as the previous one." The doctor summarized, "The treatment plan includes three more cycles. Are we still good with that?"

"Yes." He nods not comfortable saying much more.

"Okay. We have two options: We have your egg donor scheduled for the egg harvesting procedure later on today. We can go ahead with the frozen embryo as planned. Or we can fertilize the new eggs and use them instead. It's a different procedure on our part, but completely feasible."

She looked at him like he was supposed to choose. Maybe he should have asked Honor to come with, as embarrassing as it would be. He would swallow his pride.

"Meaning?"

"It means we can save the ones we already have for later. But, we'll need a fresh sperm sample for that."

"What are the odds?"

"For a single treatment? 50-50. Higher, if more than one egg is returned. Which we don't necessarily recommend. Either way, they are already inseminated when we insert them. In the end, it down to how successful the implantation is. Looking at the save side, if you're considering more than one future child from the same donor – it's an opportunity - if your financial resources allow. That's it. It's up to you."

"Money is not an issue," Logan swallowed, "Okay. Let's do the fresh one."

"Alright. I'll let Ashley know. Just stop at the nurse's station, she'll help you out with everything you need."

Logan cringed at her choice of words, pushing out of his chair.

"Logan, one more thing," Dr. Lockheart held out a business card to him, "It's important to have someone to talk to during this process. Think about it."

What the fuck? Was she giving him her number? She has a ring on her finger. Why, oh why didn't he pick a male doctor?

"It's a counselor's number." Dr. Lockheart clarified, "I highly recommend."

Logan felt embarrassed for assuming and accepted the card politely; "I'll just go... talk to Ashley."

"Have a good day."

Logan felt his skin crawl when Nurse Ashley sent him into a room with an empty cup and fear of failure.

**~w~**

* * *

New York was a different state of mind compared to Seattle. Logan wouldn't get caught wearing a tie in Seattle. When he knocks on Colin's door, the suffocating item has already been discarded and stuffed into his pocket. The two top buttons of his shirt followed, becoming undone.

"Surprise!" Steph launched herself into Logan's unsuspecting arms when the door opened. "Aren't you happy to see me?!"

"I am," Logan hugged her distractedly. "It's just a… surprise. Colin didn't say…"

"Like you gave him a chance to respond. He's in the shower. A little more warning would be appreciated next time. You want coffee?"

The woman who conducted an off and on relationship with one of his best friends was dressed too comfortably to be just visiting.

"Ah." The sound fell out of Logan's mouth. "Something stronger might be better."

"You know your way around that better than I do." She waved him dismissively. "Indulge yourself."

Colin's New York apartment is a perfect example for upper-class bachelor pads. Colin didn't even pick his furniture, because he has a yellow armchair. Colin hated yellow because it's the color of cheese.

Logan knows who did the interior decor. Yellow is Chelsea's favorite color.

**~w~**

_"He has his Chelsea look on, meaning I need to make myself scarce." _He hears them conversing hoarsely behind his back. Stephanie's raspy voice is lower than usual. Logan could sense the words based on the low frequency alone.

He didn't know he had a 'Chelsea look'. Or whatever that meant.

He just finished pouring himself a double when Colin appeared. He filled another glass for Colin. A moment later, Stephanie called '_Bye Logan_' and the door closed behind her.

"I think it might stick this time." Colin coughed half an explanation, accepting the amber liquid.

"I don't care what the two of you are doing. I just masturbated into a plastic cup." Logan said dryly. Saying that out loud freaks him out, because it just hit home that he is actually doing this.

Colin's drink hangs in mid-air, "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard." Logan finds that sitting is better. Makes his shaking limbs steadier.

"Shit, Logan. Are you…?"

"I'm having a baby." Logan downed the rest of his drink in one go choking a little. A lot more than he could swallow.

"Idiot, you scared the shit out of me. For a second I thought you are going Lance Armstrong on me." Colin's knee jerk reaction is a high-pitched laugh; "Wait – what baby? With who?"

"With myself," Logan held his head in his hands. "Surrogacy."

There's a beat of silence, that stretch too long, before a still processing Colin snaps; "Have you lost your marbles?! I thought Finn buying that dump of a mall was a dumb idea - but this is a whole other level!"

**~w~**

* * *

_**Seattle**_

"When did you know you wanted a baby?" Rory shaded the man figure. You could only see his back. Her main character, the illustrated copy of herself, was holding socks.

Ever since Joel dumped her, she's been drawing the same installment over and over again. Each time she concluded that it was the socks' fault. Or the socks' owner fault for setting it in motion.

"I think it's like being in love - it's just creeps on you. One day you just know." Kate said vaguely peering over Rory's shoulder.

"That line is only believable in movies."

"Please don't tell me you think you're pregnant again, that was enough drama to last a lifetime." Kate looked at her friend. She thought Rory was relieved not to be.

"My birthday makes me pensive," Rory admitted, "Maybe a baby wouldn't be that bad. Maybe I need some grounding."

A few days ago, on a whim, she posted the comics about the false alarm pregnancy. The traffic on the Facebook page hit an all-time high. Even Ben was shell-shocked. Although she suspected that, in his case, it had more to do with the content.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard all week," Kate rolled her eyes.

"I need a plan. A road-map. A goal." Rory mused at loud, "My mom and I always had a plan: Get into Harvard and be a foreign correspondent. Sure it had to be tweaked a little when Harvard turned into Yale. The thing is that after that - the plan just evaporated."

She wondered whether her mother would call this year.

"Rory, you plan your supermarket shopping a week ahead."

"Don't you think it's pathetic that my supermarket shopping is the anchor in my life?" Rory pointed out, "I don't even know how to cook."

"Maybe it's not the question of what the plan is, but who makes them." Kate clarified, "A baby is not a plan. Take a cooking class."

"Yeah," Rory bit her inner cheek.

"Maybe there was a moment," Kate said after an afterthought, "One day, Ryan was pumping gas, and I just knew, that if I'd ask him to Tango right there - in the middle of the parking lot – he'd say yes. That's the kind of man I wanted to father my imaginary kids."

"Did he?"

"I never asked. I found someone who would take my hand and drag me head first fearless. The rest comes naturally."

"I want a love like this. Why can't I find a love like that?" Rory met with Kate's silence, "What?"

"Please don't take it the wrong way, because I love you, but love is a deal of give and take." Kate hesitated a little, "It just doesn't work when one of you is self-absorbed. You are a taker, not a giver."

Harsh.

"I loved Joel," Rory looked down at her sketches, penciling in candy canes on the socks.

"I think you loved the idea of someone loving you like Joel. With stars in his eyes." Kate too avoided eye contact, "And he thought he loved you enough for the both of you."

She doesn't need a man with stars in his eyes. She has a whole god-damn planetarium in her name.

Oh gosh, she was a terrible girlfriend.

**~w~**

* * *

1:03 am. The phone stayed quiet. It is now past 4:01 am in New England.

She desperately wanted it to ring, and it hasn't.

Her last hope crushed so brutally. Rory washed back the disappointment with a large sip from a half-full bottle of wine and blinked back her disappointment. She won't cry, even if she wanted to. But she will drink the rest of it.

Alone. Wearing her sparkly dress.

Her party was over. Everyone else cleared out. It was a good night overall, a lot more turnout than she thought. A friend bringing a friend did the trick of mixing a good crowd. At one point, she didn't know half the people in attendance. And this was her apartment.

"Why do you keep checking the time? Are you waiting for someone?"

Rory took a breath to compose herself. She sure didn't know when he showed up. Nicole's desperate friends flocked at him all night, and he didn't deflect the attention.

Yet there he was, cleaning up the mess of her birthday party a trash bag in hand.

"My mom was supposed to call. It's a birthday thing." She take the trash bag from his hand and drops it to the floor, "You don't have to do that."

"I don't mind." He is the last person she expected to stay. They don't hang out alone intentionally.

"I do." She made herself comfortable on the couch with her leftover bottle of wine. Her legs tactfully folded. She pats the spot next to her. "Where's my present?"

"Who says I got you a present?" He is wearing that devious smile with the dimples.

"You did last year. No birthday joint this time?"

"I don't do that stuff anymore." He laid the back of his head back on the edge of the couch.

"You don't?" She looks surprised.

"No."

"Why?" For a lot of reasons then he cares to share. He doesn't smoke the regular cigarettes either.

He angles his face a little towards her; "It makes me do stupid things with you."

"What if I want you to get stupid with me?" She edges closer and the only thing between them is the bottle of wine she holds by its neck.

"Rory, we can't do this here." His dimples sinks further with a hint of embarrassment.

"Why?" Rory brushed an imaginary dust off her stocking coyly.

"You know why."

"You can't deny a girl on her birthday, Logan. It's a dick move." She pouts at him, biting her lips under lower lashes.

"It chivalrous if she's drunk."

"I'm not drunk," He has an answer to everything, doesn't he? How infuriating. He looks at her knowingly, "Maybe a tiny winey tipsy."

"This is Seattle. I'll still be your boss tomorrow. You just broke up with your boyfriend. I'm not going to be your rebound. It's not gonna make this any less real."

"Doing it in New England still doesn't make you any less my boss the next day. You didn't mind it then."

"That's different." It allows him not to betray his promise to Ben, who is one of the constant pillars in his life. New England holds no complications. No drama. He has enough drama in his life.

"It's only different because you had it your way. This is the twilight zone. There are still three whole hours until I'm officially twenty-six all over the world." He found her logic her time zone math and logic original. "A wrinkle in time."

"It's not a wrinkle in time, it's just time zones manipulation." He can't allow himself to fall for it this time. He tries to pry the bottle out of her hands, "I think that's enough drinking for tonight. This will be a mistake tomorrow."

"You're my favorite mistake." Her grip on the bottle tightens, pulling it closer to her with him following. She twists his own words back at him, "Something stupid, something bad for you."

"Rory, let it go," he says slowly his brown eyes holding hers. She releases the bottle.

Then, seizing his victorious illusion, she grabs the back of his neck and crushes her lips on his. Her newfound confidence knocks off his resistance like a house of cards.

She really shouldn't have done that.

Their tongues battles. He's not sure where the bottle of wine ended, but he is fully aware she's in his lap and his hands are now edging her dress up. Her fingers graze the back of his head. He loves that. He always loved that. He loved that since he discovered sex.

He loves it even more now, since his latest sexual interaction included his hand and a mocking plastic cup.

Cher sings and he freezes under her touch. That stupid ringtone.

"Cher is calling you," Rory gasped breathlessly as he pulls away. He is a deer in highlights, completely flustered at being thrown back to reality. Her face is pure desire. He swallows hard.

Damn Chelsea. Cockblocked by his ex-wife.

"Do you need to answer that?" Logan takes a tiny shallow breath of restraint. Caught between a rock and a hard place. It allows him the time to re-compose himself. And its hard, considering the position she is in.

Yes. No. He doesn't know anymore. Some days he does, some days he doesn't. If he does - this is not going to happen. It shouldn't happen anyway. Maybe he should thank Chelsea for saving him from himself.

Because this is so so wrong.

"Let it ring." Her face edges close to his, she cradles his jaw, her blue eyes bright under heavy lashes. Her lips graze the edge of his seductively. His blood rushes in his ears. "No one has to know."

**~w~**

When her mother calls for her legendary birthday tale at 4:01 am, Seattle time - he's not there anymore.

Rory groggily buries her face in the pillow he no longer occupies.

She can't win them all.

**~w~**

* * *

"UPS left this for you." Shiri drops the rectangle package in front of Rory a few days later.

"Finally!" Rory's eyes light up at the east coast stamps. It arrived! Her mother's birthday present.

Lorelai was making up lost telephone time, calling multiple times a day to ask if it has arrived yet.

Rory's excitement sparked the girls' interest.

"What is it?"

"My mom sent me a birthday present!" Rory explained tearing the first layer of paper stating her name and address. Revealing another colorful layer of warping paper. She grinned.

So Lorelai.

Rory ripped off the rest excitedly, eager to reveal the present mystery.

"Oh my." Nicole blurt out when the box is stripped off it's wrapping.

"A rocket pocket!" Kate exclaimed loudly, "Damn! you have one cool mom."

A sex toy. Her mother sent her a sex toy.

Rory wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She stared at the box in her hands blushing furiously.

How embarrassing. If she starts digging now she'd be in China by midnight. Her mother was unbelievable.

"There's a note too!" Shiri giddily located the note on the floor, clearing her throat importantly. It must have fell in her race for discovery.

Oh god. Please, please don't be dirty.

"_For lonely Seattle nights_." Shiri squeals.

"Oh, dirty!" Kate cat-called.

Rory snatched the note from Shiri's hands inspecting it closely. Her face burning hot.

It was a female's hand writing. For sure.

But her mother would have at least signed '_Love, mom' -_ or something.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: I didn't not fall from the face of the earth. While I love writing Logan's, Rory's story arc is giving me a little grief. __I wanted this chapter to come out completely different. __Anyways, this one builds for the next one._

_Thank you for your reviews. It's exciting to know that people are discovering this fiction, waiting for an update or reading it more than once! (what a compliment!). I enjoy to know when someone picks up on details that are hidden away, or notice something is deeper than it appeared in first read. You guys are the best._  
_I hope you and your beloved ones are all well. _

* * *

**October 2012**

_**Seattle**_

"One large Americano, extra strong, extra hot. One sugar, no milk, no cream." Rory placed her order with the girl handling the cashier. Rory Gilmore had her coffee intake timed to the minute. It was 8:50 a.m.

"Make it two and put the lady on my tab." A black credit card waved in front of the cashier before Rory could retrieve her less flashy card from her wallet.

He had to stop doing that. Popping up from absolutely nowhere. Weaseling his way into her personal space unnoticed. It unnerved her. Rory stepped to the side of the counter waiting for her coffee. Ignoring him.

"That's not a good look." Logan assessed her features carefully.

"I have no words!" She exploded.

"Rory, come on."

"Oh no, wait, I thought of something: Jerk, ass, arrogant, inconsiderate, mindless, frat boy, low life, buttface miscreant."

"Buttface miscreant?"

"Why would you do something like that?"

"I'm sorry, buttface miscreant?"

"Here I am, breathlessly waiting on my mother's birthday present. My mother. Whom I was not speaking to for ten months – because of you, by the way. What were you thinking? Sending that thing to the office. You made me look ridiculous."

She will not give him the satisfaction to hear her say '_sex toy_', '_vibrator_' or '_Rocket Pocket_'.

Another member of staff announced their order. Rory grabbed her coffee, tightly securing a plastic lid on the steaming cup. She turns her back on him. He follows, backing her towards the counter by the window.

She can't quite fathom how he can maneuver her without even touching her.

"No, I made me look ridiculous to Natalie."

"I don't know who Natalie is!"

"My New York secretary. She helped me out, she wrote the note." He explains, "Rory, come on. No one knows it was me. Relax."

"You asked your secretary…" She's appalled.

"It doesn't matter now. Rory, listen, I'm going to…"

"Please stop talking." She orders, "It's inappropriate. The whole office is in a frenzy. Kate keeps telling me to moan for '_yes_' and groan for '_no_'. The web-developers **_buzz_** when they walk past me. It's humiliating!"

His dimples flash so deep. His eyes are dancing. It's funny, yet he feels like beating up the whole web-developers team. He can't keep the smile off his face.

"Don't smile at me." She wants to smack him.

She's upset. It's starting not to sit well with him.

"So you didn't like my present?" He tries to lighten the atmosphere with a teasing innuendo, "I thought it'll come in handy."

He's only half-joking. He means it quite literally. A loophole to help relieve the tension until an opportunity presented itself. Because it's not going to anytime soon. This realization makes his head spin a little.

She gasps at him.

"You know what? _This_," She gestured between them, "Isn't working for me."

"We talked about this. _This_," he mimicked her motion as his temper flares, "Is all that I can give. Under certain conditions. You know why."

He feels angry because he didn't force her into anything. Quite the contrary. He made sure to constantly leave her with an out.

Kate's words about a give and take ring in Rory's head.

"Then I don't want it. This make-believe." She grabs her coffee cup, "You were right. It was a mistake. I have to go."

She's taking the out.

"To work."

"Yes. I have to go to work. And yes, I do realize how incredibly stupid that just sounded. But **_I_** don't have the privilege not to show up at work if I want to bury myself under a rock."

"I can clear that with the boss for you."

He is bending the rules for her. Can't she see that? Did it the other night. He is even doing it now, because he really shouldn't take advantage of the boss card this way.

"I'm gonna listen to my _other_ boss. Whatever weird funk you're in – count me out."

He watch her storm out of the coffee shop. He just made a mess out of something simple.

**~w~**

* * *

The next day Rory is glad to learn he is in New York until farther notice.

Ben isn't.

**~w~**

* * *

Some days in the office are quieter than others. Rory likes it this way. Nicole has the day off. Kate is discussing the malfunctions in the website graphics with the web-developers elsewhere. Rory avoided them even though they stopped snickering and buzzing when she strolled by.

They all act extremely polite and politically correct towards her now.

Someone, probably Ben, must have put his foot down.

"Good. You're here. Can you watch Miella for a little while, please? I have to make an important damage control call," An agitated Ben appeared in the door. His hands prompting his daughter closer to her desk as he spoke, "Rory knows to draw really well. You can color."

Then he left. Rory looked down at the child nervously. She was pretty crappy with kids.

"I'm sick. You're not supposed to go to school when you're sick." Miella announced eyeing Rory's computer with obvious intention, "Logan lets me play games on his computer when he talks to his golf club."

Logan used to pace and wave his golf club around when tied up in a conference call. Glass walls don't provide much privacy if one desires to hide their quirky work habits.

The girl was not interested in coloring.

"I need to use my computer to do my work. But, I can draw you a picture and you can sit in our spare desk and color. I have special pencils." Rory tried to sound cheerful.

"He's not here because he had to go to work with his daddy. Logan's daddy is scary. I don't like him." Rory never met Mitchum Huntzberger but she heard of him, "Do you know to draw Barbie?"

"I can try."

"She needs to wear a skirt, like you."

Rory nodded pulling out a sketchbook she kept in her drawer. Meilla's eyes lit up at the sight of the star-cut cookies resting there. The ones wrapped in cellophane and a nice bow. When they appeared a few days ago, Rory didn't need a note to know who they are from.

"Star cookies!" Ben's daughter whispered with obvious anticipation. "Can I have some?"

Well, someone better eat them instead of leaving them to spoil in the drawer to torment her.

"You know what? Let's take a cookie break."

"With Milk." The half Chinese kindergarten girl ordered.

"You can't have cookies without Milk." Rory agreed.

Miella's short legs are hanging in the air from the bench they claimed for themselves. Capturing her unique features was interesting. Rory snapped the picture of the child biting off on the stars cookies.

She seemed to prefer the blue icing cookies best.

"When daddy took mummy to the hospital to bring my baby sister, Logan let me eat cookies for dinner and watch the Bugs Bunny cartoons."

The little girl is, clearly, a Logan Huntzberger fan. He's like a pop up box from hell.

Ben's girl wasn't shy and extremely chatty. Unlike her dad. Rory already knew her teacher's name. Purple is her favorite color, she wants a puppy and Logan comes over to dinner every Thursday night. Only twenty minutes have passed.

"Sounds like fun." Rory smiled at the girl's story. That sounds like a page out of the Lorelai Gilmore Playbook.

Miella is enthusiastic about striking pose to the camera too.

"I like having my picture taken. I want to play dress up, sing and dance when I grow up. Daddy says I can and that's called an actress." Miella dipped another cookie the glass of milk. The pink icing colored the white liquid, "Did you want to work in an office?"

That is a really good question.

"No. I wanted to travel and tell stories. Take pictures." Rory patted her camera. Her artificial focal point. Sometimes reality looked much better through the camera compared to the naked eye.

"Travel where?"

"Everywhere. Anywhere." Rory said thoughtfully.

"In a plane?" The girl asked, "I never flew a plane. Daddy flew once with Logan. Logan says flying is not much fun. But I think is it. Because you get snacks and Barbies."

"The snacks are my favorite part too."

"You have pretty eyes, Rory."

"Your eyes are pretty too."

"Yours are blue. Like blue giant stars. Here." The mixed-race girl held out the last blue-icing star to her. "It's your cookies. You should have the last one. Logan told me blue giant stars are rare."

Rory looked at the offered cookie through her camera lens. The simple logic of the little girl touches her. It's tender fleeting moments like this she wanted to capture. Not carefully poised brides and grooms.

Maybe she didn't want to work at Current anymore, either.

"I'm ready to go back now." Ben's daughter brushed the cookie crumbs off her shirt.

Rory wasn't.

By the end of the day, Rory hands Ben her formal two weeks notice and books a plane ticket to China.

It was the start of a plan.

**~w~**

* * *

"Logan, Where the fuck are you?" Ben snaps into the speaker when the calls come through. "Why don't you answer your damn phone?"

Rory hurries to collect her notes, ready to make a haste exit and come back later. Ben is quicker though, ordering her back down with a silent finger point.

Why Ben is so worked up about Logan's departure is an enigma. According to Shiri, it has been in the calendar since summer. Not that Rory asked. Yet, everyone is aware of the tall man's tension.

He hadn't said a word about her notice either.

"I'm sorry, I must have dialed wrong. Did I call my father?" Logan's smooth voice flowed through the speaker coolly, "I'm at the hospital. I can't have my phone on. It interrupts the machines. What's up?"

Hospital? Rory intentionally cast her eyes down to her pen, drawing randomly on the edge of her notebook.

"You're on speaker." Ben looked defused.

"Who's there?"

"Rory. We're assembling the new content team. You might want to weigh in on that." Ben answered briefly before moving on to a more pressing topic, "James Parker has been ringing me up. Bitching about you, what the hell did you tell him?"

There's a beat of silence. Neither Ben nor Rory can attribute it's cause to one piece of information or another. Ben wears his scrambled expression.

"Show me the money."

"What?" Ben attention snapped to the phone again.

"I told him to show me the money." Logan's voice didn't quiver.

"We've been working on this deal for six months, Logan. You can't bash the client because you're going all _Jerry Maguire_." Rory could imagine Ben's brain melt by the way the tips of his ears reddened. "You need to get back here. Like now. I don't like this."

"He needs to dip his hand deeper into his pocket. We are worth it. Now sit back. Relax. Let him come to us. I know the guy. If we don't hear from him in a week, then we panic." Logan's voice sounds assured, "And I can't. Take me off speaker."

Ben sighs and lifts the receiver to his ear. Rory shifts uncomfortably at the evidence their conversation just turned personal. Whatever Logan tells him on the other side of the phone doesn't reassure the other man.

Ben seemed to forget about her.

"He wants to talk to you." Ben waggles the receiver at her across the desk. Rory shakes her head startled. Ben waggles the receiver again a little more forcefully.

Rory reluctantly takes it, positioning the mouthpiece in place. "Hello."

"Pick three of your top freelancers and E-mail me their resume. I want a recommendation of who is best qualified for team-leader too. I'll go through it tonight."

"Okay."

"Let Natalie know what time you set the interviews. Make sure you tell her New York time so there is no mix-up. I'll join via conference call." Logan pauses next, "Is everything good?"

_Is everything good? _What does that mean?

"Anything else?" He is delusional if he thinks she will talk to his accomplice Natalie. What's the point in this conversation? He could have sent an e-mail.

"Tell him he has nothing to worry about James Parker. I've got to go."

Just like that, he hangs up.

"Logan says you have nothing to worry about James Parker," Rory feels as gloom as Ben looks when he takes back the receiver.

"Whenever Logan says I don't need to worry. I worry more." Ben tongue clicked, "Just saying."

"Um.. Ben?" Rory wasn't sure if it was the right time to bring this up with her boss, ally, whatever. But she might as well do it sooner than later, "About my resignation…."

"God, you two are as bad as each other. Is this really necessary?" Ben muttered and leaned back in his chair, "I need you here when the new client comes through. I can give you a leave without pay until January 6th. Until we bag the deal, the budget is a little tight, so I can't offer a raise. How does that sound?"

"Sounds fair." She nods rising to her feet set for the door. "Thanks."

"Rory," He called her back, "I haven't told Logan yet. I advise that you do. Even if it's only by E-mail."

"I'll forward the 'out of office' message to him." Rory bites her lip defensively. It has nothing to do with him.

Now all she has to do is tell her mother she's not coming home this Thanks Giving.

She wasn't looking forwards to that conversation either.

**_~w~_**

* * *

_**New York**_

"Fake. Fake. Nice legs." Logan and Colin scouted the crowd. Giving the potential conquests the once over.

Colin had to admit, it was nice to have Logan around for an extended period of time. It was like old college days when their tight group of friends would make the most of what New York weekend entertainment had to offer.

Colin was still pretending to look for better options, although they all knew a 'look but don't touch' policy was in place. Finn was still trying to convince a girl to come down and join them – expect she was his wife. And Logan, Colin eyed at his blonde friend, Logan still wore his 'Chelsea look'.

The 'I have feelings I can't dissolve' look.

As if nothing changed. Except everything changed.

"How's the breeding program doing? All underway?" Logan jadedly glared at his friend. Colin sipped the hard liquor elegantly, "I'm just trying to understand how this works? Three strikes and you're out?"

"No. It's a try it till you make it." Logan changed the subject, "Has Steph monopolized your closet space yet?"

"No." Colin dismissed his attempt to dissolve the topic, "I can't believe you're serious about this. This is irrational, even for you."

Logan tipped back the rest of his drink, tilting his head towards a brunette in the bar. His choice for the night. If he's lucky and she has blue eyes, that might just give him enough satisfaction.

"I pick her."

"That's more like you." Colin felt relief creeping in. Logan falling in and out of random conquest's beds was kind of encouraging, "Does that mean the plan to re-populate earth is aborted?"

"No." Logan pocketed his belonging, "Don't hold your breath. I won't be back."

Colin didn't think differently. Logan was stubborn. Very few women can resist the Huntzberger charm when it strikes.

"What's with him?" Finn filled in the seat he just left.

"Logan is breeding," Colin said his face troubled.

"Nonsense. Logan is allergic to liabilities." Finn dismissed, "Remember Bobbi? And what's-her-name, the doctor, a few months back? The moment he sniffed the hint of strings he cut them loose."

"Yes. Chelsea really did a number on him." Colin mumbled, not so sure about Finn's observation anymore. Obviously, Logan hasn't shared his latest wacky idea with him. Sometimes it seemed to Colin that Logan oped for the divide and conquer tactic with the information he relayed to Finn.

"I blame Mitchum." Finn disagreed.

"You do know he is at the hospital every time her dad gets the radiation therapy?"

"Yes. I'm surprised he can stand spending more than five minutes with Mali Rosen. I guess it's just something he feels like he needs to do. There's a whole lot of history there."

If Finn knew, then Chelsea was clued in too.

"How's she?"

"Angry. It kills her inside to be banished. She's glad that he's there."

"I'm worried." Colin's eye remained on their blonde friend flirting with his flavor of the night. Something about him was off, "Ben is too."

"Ben always worry." Finn rolled his eyes, "He's not gonna throw himself off a cliff, Colin. It's Logan, all he's going to do is drink himself stupid and take the wrong girl home."

Colin hummed in disagreement.

"He'll snap out of it, he always does."

**~w~**

* * *

**December 2012**

_**New England**_

Rory returned from southern China's temperate weather straight into a thick snow blanket and a very Christmas-y Stars Hollow. The lights. The spirit. Over-the-top decorations. Luke's special pie.

The diner owner was immensely annoyed by her mother calling it the special pie.

"Don't you love pies? I love pies!"

"I love pies." Rory agreed. The pie that sealed the end of a rift. Hands down one of the best pies Rory ever had.

"Right? Who doesn't like pies? I could eat pies all day."

"Is this a metaphor?" The grumpy man asked Rory, the coffee pot hovering in his hand.

The mother and daughter pair hit Luke fairly early in the morning for pancakes. Lorelai is most interested in the bizarre and random details of her trip. The night before Rory projected a slideshow. Lorelai finally admitted the flat screen Christopher insisted on installing was useful.

Her father was ecstatic. "If that's what it takes to make her come around, maybe you should come home more often."

Rory would have preferred he'd be more ecstatic about how good the pictures were.

Despite her mother's best efforts, there were moments Rory felt a little redundant. Like the moment she realized she's going to sleep on the trundle bed while her step-sister slept in her old bed.

In her old bedroom.

A guest in her own house.

After two months of sleeping in hostel's dorm rooms, it was a tad disappointing.

"No. Why would pie be a metaphor? It's pie. More coffee, please!" Lorelai smiled sweetly waving her empty coffee cup around for a refill. "How's your pie life, Luke?"

The last comment made Luke scarce faster than a swarm of bees. Lorelai was always a little flakey.

Lorelai chuckled, directing the same question at her daughter, "How is your pie life?"

"I'm on a pie break, Mom. I have not dated anyone since Joel." She shouldn't go down the road of half-truths. But if her mother really wanted to know it was all on Facebook.

"That's all you're going to give mommy? I was hoping for exciting tales of irresistible backpackers. Some vacation fun. You're telling me all you did was take pictures? Very disappointing."

"I ate lots of dumplings too." Rory countered, "I'm concentrating on me."

"That's good. That's good." Lorelai tapped her fingers on the top of the table hiding a sly smile. "With a little help from your Rocket Pocket friend?"

"Mom!" Rory hissed embarrassed. Willing her blush to remain buried under her skin. "We're at Luke's!"

"I'll take that as a yes." Her mother raised her eyebrow suggestively.

Rory twisted her mouth uneasily. Her Logan Rocket stayed tacked away in Seattle. Resting safely in its original package in the third drawer of her dresser. She regretted telling her mother about it, even if she didn't tell her who she got it from.

"So this is what you're doing now? Traveling and snapping pictures away? Mommy approves."

Rory shakes her head at her mother's enthusiasm. "I'm going back to Seattle."

"Why? I thought you quit."

"Well, not exactly. My LWOP is over, but I still work there. At least for now. I miss the people."

"Any certain people?" Lorelai asked with caution.

"Kate. Leo from tech is a cool guy. He knows how to juggle. Just everyone in general." Rory answers flippantly, "Maybe we should get more pie."

"Oh! You know who else loves pies? Your dad! He just loves pies. We should get him some to go."

Rory squinted her face her hands flying to her ears. "Hello! Child here. I don't want to know this."

"I was talking about regular pie. Not special pie."

"Gigi like pie too," Rory added.

"Gigi too." Lorelai squeezes her daughter's hand tightly. "I still need a Gilmore eater back up. It's not the same. Your dad doesn't measure up."

"I missed you too mum."

"You're okay with it, right?"Lorelai suddenly asks, "I know you had your concerns. We're in a really good place your dad and me."

Was she? Rory shrugged, "I just want you happy, Mom."

Rory could admit her mother did look happy. But Lorelai also looked like she has something important to tell her but can't find the right words to articulate.

"I think we're finally getting it right this time." Lorelai said.

Rory hoped so. A year later and her dad was was still around after all. Maybe it was different.

"I can't believe Grandma is making us attend her Christmas party." Lorelai complained, snapping her fingers at Luke, "Hey Luke, we're gonna need a whole lotta pie to go!"

Some things don't ever change.


	20. Chapter 20

**December 2012**

_**New England**_

"So how is Rory?"

"She's around here somewhere, why don't you go and ask her," Lorelai answered tiredly. She was never keen on attending the Gilmore's Christmas party in the first place. But Christopher answered the phone when her mother called with the invite.

Lorelai's blue eyes scanned the room for her bailing, abandoning boyfriend. Partner. Father of her child. He promised her they'd sneak out to make out in the pool house, thirty minutes ago, and then vanished like air.

Traitor.

"Has she said anything about a job now that she's back? Perhaps closer to home? We miss her terribly when she's away. Seattle is so far away."

"I don't know."

"She certainly looks nice tonight. Does she have a new boyfriend? Emily Gilmore has already pointed out all the different ways the dress Lorelai wore was a little more revealing than appropriate.

"Mum."

"Has she finally met someone during her trip? She told me she wasn't dating anyone when she was here this summer."

"I don't know."

"Oh, of course you know!"

"Because I'm the one who potty-trained her?"

"Because she tells you everything!"

"Eh, no, she doesn't." Anymore.

"Of course she does. It's what the two of you always do. What you have always done. Chatter in code, make snarky comments, intentionally leaving me in the dark about Rory's life."

"Everyone is in the dark about Rory's life," Lorelai muttered to herself. She finally located Christopher tied up in a conversation with someone who looked like they might have gone to school together. The traitor. "I'm going to say hello to Chris's friend."

"Is Rory acquainted with Logan Huntzberger?"

"What?" Lorelai's neck snapped to her mother's line of view.

The new subject of their conversation warmly shook hands with her father. There was another man with the group. A man Lorelai didn't recognize, but Rory seemed to know.

Logan Huntzberger's hand brushed her daughter's elbow. A gesture so light and brief you'd miss it.

"Logan Huntzberger. He's friends with the eccentric business partner of yours. Do you know my friend Mali Rosen from the DAR? He was married to her daughter. Terrible scandal." Emily relayed a sum of his brief bio, "Very loose morals. Let me tell you."

"I know who he is." Lorelai supplied tightly.

"Does she know him from Yale?" Emily answered her own question, "It is the Huntzberger's alma-mater. You do know he attended our Planetarium Summertime event too. They looked awfully chummy back there. Rory behaved despicably."

"What do you mean?" Lorelai did not know. The last tidbit sparks the blue-eyed beauty's interest.

"Well, after the scholarship ceremony, your father and I never saw her again until the next morning. Your father said he never noticed, but she never even bide us farewell."

Lorelai raised her eyebrows in surprise. She agreed with her mother. That's un-Rory like.

"We invite his parents every year. I don't know why your father suggested to put his name on the guest list." Emily Gilmore takes her guest lists very seriously, "Richard never express an interest in the guest list. He always says I know best. So I humored him."

"You don't say." Lorelai intently watched her father converse with Finn's friend. Rory's society smile plastered on her face, hands clasped tightly on her glittery purse. A neutral distance between her and the newcomer to the group.

What was her father up to?

**~w~**

Richard Gilmore was certainly pleased to leave her in Logan's '_capable hands'_. His words, not hers. He wasted no time beyond pleasantries to tempt professor Bell with a sneak peek at the newest first edition he acquired.

He tapped his nose twice at her. There is no first edition. Her grandfather fed her to the wolves.

"Were you and professor Bell..." Logan gestured a discrete dirty motion with his hands.

So-called capable hands. "Ew. No!"

"Sorry!" he chuckles and smirks, "I know you and your flare for the forbidden fruit. And the way you were all goaded at my interruption. You can see where I might get the impression, he was a little more than a teacher."

"He is more than a teacher." She argues, "He's a friend of my grandfather, a great writer, an inspiration, and many other things you couldn't possibly understand…"

"O-kay." He draws the syllables slow. He sips his drink, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Dan Lowrance. His T.A." She quipped, looking down at her now less-than-fizzy champagne. She hates the way he manipulates her to tell him things. She's not even sure he does it with much intention.

Logan secretly pumped his fist in victory. His dimples stand out.

"You need a refill?" He asks suggestively.

"I bet there are more females here whom you slept with than you can count." She bites snarky.

"A few." Logan leans closer, discreetly nodding at each, "Blondie, dipsy, bubbles, four nose jobs, charm McGee. All great gals. My sister's friends are all divorced or extremely willing."

"Unbelievable." She mutters irked.

"I don't go asking for it. It's just companionship. A man has needs." He says dryly, "And there's you."

"Can't say I'm glad to be included under that definition."

"You're not."

"I'm not going to sleep with you, Logan. There's nothing you can possibly say that will change that."

"Night's young." He says it like she dared him.

**~w~**

* * *

Richard Gilmore is a terrific dancer. Rory understands why her grandmother likes dancing so much. His tall frame tower over her height. His capable arms guide her flawlessly to the rhythm. The hint of cigars on his dash. She lets herself be swept away and twirled around the dance floor following his lead.

He is her favorite person in the world.

"I've been contemplating grapefruits lately," Richard Gilmore deeps voice converse with his granddaughter, "It's such a peculiar fruit. Very odd. I haven't yet gotten to the bottom of why it has 'grape' in it. It resembles nothing like grapes. Aside from the fact that your grandmother's diet restrictions apply to grapes as well."

She faintly recalls a different conversation about grapefruits in the past.

"I'm not a fan of fruit."

"Now, I don't want to be too forward. But a man in his standing, in the business he's in, not a bad connection. He's not a bad connection at all." Richard Gilmore dropped his metaphorical musing, "Is the young Huntzberger a potential gentleman caller?"

"I know he's not a bad connection. I work for him. He's my boss." She likes the fact that her grandfather is tall. Craning her neck to look up at him is awkward for many reasons now. She isn't quite sure he's aware of this detail.

"Nowadays, young professionals change their occupation every three to four years. I read this in the Economist if I'm not mistaken."

Out of all the ways Rory could imagine the night pan out, her grandfather playing matchmaker was so off the charts. Lorelai and Christopher making out in the coats closet was far more likely.

"I'm keeping my options open."

"I am aware of the speculative air that hangs. Your grandmother is friends with the Rosens after all," She smiled at the delicate manner her grandfather articulates, "You don't judge a man by his reputation, you judge a man by his heart."

What could Richard Gilmore possibly know about Logan Huntzberger's heart?

Rory Gilmore is quite convinced Logan Huntzberger's heart is full to the brim with someone else. The ghost of his ex-wife.

**~w~**

It all happens so fast.

First, her mother cutting her dance with her grandfather, saying they need to talk.

Then the music stop. Her father appears.

"Lor, I know that you already said yes. But I also know that you wanted Rory here to do this right. So this is me doing it right." The next thing Rory knows, he is bending one knee, a little red box lays opens in his palm, "Lor, will you, finally, again, marry me?"

All Rory remembers from the rest of the party is her mother standing right across from her, looking nervous and self-aware.

Rory feels her mouth drop. What does he mean by _already said yes_?

The sea of people blurs.

Rory's feet rush by some unknown force towards the door. Her heels click on the floor tiles. A mirroring movement through the sea of crowd catches in the corner of her eye.

A black-suited silhouette with golden hair.

It is her mother that, once again, makes her run into Logan Huntzberger's arms.

**~w~**

* * *

Logan Huntzberger has a talented mouth and a magical tongue. Rory tingles just at the tailing memory of all the ways it just worked her.

"It's illegal how good you are at that." Her fingers twirl his golden locks. She's still a little breathless. Her mouth dry.

She wears nothing but his suit jacket and her underwear. She insisted on re-wearing them after all been discarded. It gives her a false sense of control. His head rests on her bare stomach. He has been oddly attentive to that part of her body tonight. She can't complain, yet she can't figure out why.

Their bodies form a T shape on the bed. He is, too, evenly dressed.

He chuckles at her, his fingers outlining her rib cage. "There are some advantages to your wife being opinionated and playing for both teams. You get feedback."

Rory takes notice of how at ease the word 'wife' is on his tongue. Like he is fond of this specific memory. Wife. Not ex-wife. He always speaks of her like he still loves her. Like she's still a part of him.

Why do they always end up talking about his ex?

Her eyes scan her surroundings. One of the Huntzberger's inner yacht quarters. The closest thing to her take to the sea request, because they never left the dock. She loves how his mind works.

She likes that they're here. It feels like a time capsule.

"You bring all your girls here?"

"This boat is new. The old one saw quite a lot of action." He avoids the question expertly. Intentionally leaving her with blanks.

"What happened to the old one?"

"Finn, Colin, and I sank it."

"You sank a yacht?!"

"It was college." He laughs, amused at her horror. "Didn't you do crazy stuff at college? Apart from sleeping around the faculty."

"Crushing on your T.A. is a legitimate college experience. I didn't sleep around."

"So is sinking a yacht." He argues.

"In what world?"

"In my world." He answers honestly.

"Logan, what did you want to be when you grow up?" It's the constant question in her mind. She's looking for her answer in all places.

Rory Gilmore is looking for her path.

"There is no point dreaming of what you could be when you know the only thing you can be - is the Huntzberger heir."

It's not an answer she anticipated.

"An astronaut," He adds a moment later. She likes the vibrations of his voice jumping on her skin.

How fitting.

"And now? What would you be - if you could be anything you want?"

"A good dad." Another surprising answer.

There's a longing in his voice, hints of raw emotion she can trace. She wonders what expression his face wears now, wishing she could capture it. The new tiny camera she bought in China is in her glittery purse, but she dare not sacrifice the rarity of this moment.

Rory is always torn between the desire to document him and the urge to consume him.

"Good dads are rare." She says. Christopher isn't a bad person. He's a cool playmate. He's just a bad dad.

Logan hums in agreement.

"Why did Congressman Rosen come to talk about the same-sex marriage bill?" She's been curious about this for months. "It passed four years ago. He voted against it."

"It's a code we use. For personal communication." Rory feels he lets her in on a huge secret.

"You keep in touch with your ex-wife's father?"

"Chelsea is a gay rights activist now." She can hear him roll his eyes, he thinks its absurd, "It makes your political campaign look bad if your daughter vocally criticize your gay rights agenda in every possible platform. She's on some vindictive crusade. He hoped I'd talk her down."

"Why would he ask you to…" She's can't help but be surprised. Just a moment ago he sounded completely owned by her.

"I owe him." He simply says. His fingers rub circles on her ticklish skin. "I could talk her out of practically anything, if I wanted. I refused. I think he knew I would."

"Owe him?"

"He gave me the money to start Current. Our first investor. He reviewed our business model. Seattle was his idea - to take advantage of the tax relief. Chelsea was so mad. She didn't speak to me for weeks."

"So pay him back." Rory's mind is busy filing the blanks Ben's tale about Current's establishment.

"He doesn't need my money. He has bags loads. That's not what he came for."

"But you just said…"

He takes a small breath.

"My grandfather had this car. A Porsche 916. There are only eleven cars of that model in the whole world. I wanted to drive it so bad, for years. I was fifteen. Winter break, we were bored, so we took it out for a spin. We skidded on ice and crashed the car into a fire tap. Colin's dad bailed him out in an hour. Mitchum left me there for two days."

"He left you in jail for two days?" That detail shakes her. Yet she fails to see how this story adds up to what they were talking about before. He's just like Ben. Jumping from topic to topic.

"Two days."

"Were you scared?"

"Yeah, I was scared," She is overwhelmed by his overall candidness, "The second night, Congressman Rosen came down and paid my bail. He didn't shout, he didn't lecture, didn't try to educate me. Do you know what he did? He took me out for hamburgers. _Because everyone needs a friend when the end of the world comes knocking_."

Back in August, he referred to Congressman Rosen as 'friend' too.

Her fingers continue to brush his hair. The man who wanted to keep things under certain conditions. The whole conversation turned far more serious than she intended. What a twist.

"But it wasn't the end of the world."

"Oh, it was. I was shipped to boarding school faster than you can say 'Eisenhower'."

She chuckles.

"He came to tell me he's sick. Brain cancer." Logan's voice rasps, "He's the first grown-up to ever treat me as equal. I go down to the hospital when he has radiation therapy and eat a burger with him. He deserves that, even if he treats his own daughter like the dirt off his shoe."

He loves the man. Tears are pricking in her eyes. Heavy stuff. That explains his hospital phone call with Ben. She feels him blink.

"That's some perspective, huh? Life's short." There are equal determination and moisture in his voice.

Rory doesn't know what to say to comfort him.

"Did he tell you to tell James Parker to show you the money?"

That seemed to lighten the atmosphere a little. "Ben really did blow a fuse about that one. Didn't he?"

**~w~**

* * *

Maybe it was the satisfaction cruising through her tissues, the welcoming sheets, or the lull of the marina. At some point, Rory Gilmore has drifted asleep.

Logan rests his hand flat on her tight tummy in line with his face. He had moved, the rest of him spooned to her side.

"Hey," She wakes.

"Hey."

"Whatchya doing?" She asks.

"Were you happy?"

"What?"

"Were you happy to know you're not pregnant with my child?" His voice is above a whisper. It only makes it louder.

Rory freeze.

"I saw the doctor records in your drawer. I'm not stupid. I can do the math."

Rory rolls away from beneath him. She completely forgot about them. She completely forgot about his insufferable habit to snoop in her chocolate drawer.

The atmosphere change so fast.

"I told you to stay out of my things."

"That? That's what bothers you? That I was in your drawer?" His temper picks up fast, "You ghosted me and took off to China."

"Yes! It's disrespectful. And maybe illegal since you're my boss." She's at the edge of the bed, "And I didn't ghost you."

"Yes. That automatic reply was a real nice touch. I'm not your boss right now." He says hotly, "I asked you a question. Were you happy about it?"

"Do you think I want to be the girl who had this magical one night stand, got carried away, and got knocked up? Damn straight, I was happy!"

He thought it was magical too.

"Do you think I want to be my mother? Hell – no. At least my mother had the sense to get knocked up by a boy who actually wanted to date her." She lets out a nervous laugh and rolls her eyes sarcastically, "Yes, sure I would have loved to have your baby! That would make stuff _sooo_ much less complicated."

"Can't date you."

"What?"

"Can't date you." His eyes cast an insecure glance her way, "I would have done it, you know."

"Done what?" Date her?

"Be your baby's daddy."

"And then what? You'd do the right thing and ask me to marry you?" She crosses her arms across her bare stomach. "I know guys like you, Logan. My dad is the same kind, you have a dynastic plan to follow. A mishap baby fucks that up. Trust me I know - I was that baby."

"I'm not gonna ask you to marry me." He says it like she's insane.

"You're not even going to sugar coat it with '_if that what you wanted?_'" Her tongue clicks venomously.

"No. My name is never going on a marriage license again. That's not what I want."

"I have no idea what the hell do you want!"

"I want to be your baby's daddy." The words slip out. His lungs feel winded.

Earthquake goes in his head. Atomic bomb. It rocks his world. She's too angry to notice the impact it has on him. How freaked out he is.

"You can't be my baby daddy, Logan," She dismisses him. That sets his argumentative flare.

"Why not?" He challenges. Why the hell not? What would be so bad about it?

"Because you said this is all you can be. This is only real right now, a stolen moment. A wrinkle in time. It stops existing the moment we step out."

"If I say I can, then I can."

She stares at him in disbelieve. Logan Huntzberger is a walking contradiction.

"You know what? I'm done here." She stands up.

"How are we done here?"

"I said everything there is to say." She glances at him. He is sitting up on the bed, clad in nothing but his boxers. "Where are the rest of my clothes?"

"Which is what?" He ignores her question.

"You're my boss, Logan. We are having an affair. This is the way you wanted it. It's just casual sex. Great sex! Mind-blowing, confusing, distracting sex. But at the end of the day - it's just sex."

She should stop saying sex. It's not just sex.

"Fine. Then you're fired. Problem solved."

"Problem not solved! You can't fire me because you supposedly want to impregnate me. That's twisted, illegal, and unethical. I'm still on leave until January 6th."

"I'll have it checked and get back to you." He says.

"This is absurd! Why are we even having this conversation? I wasn't even pregnant; it was a false alarm."

"You gave a good enough reservation. I rectified the situation."

"I'm not doing this with you." She waves her lost-found shoe at him, still parading in her underwear and his jacket. He shouldn't think that is sexy, but it is.

"Oh, relax, You still have your job, you're not fired," He assesses her fury, "What's your next argument? I can give you a moment to formulate one. Why not?"

"Are you serious?!"

Yes. But he's going to downplay it now because he scared himself shitless. He still interested to hear her reservations, though.

"For the sake of the argument." Angry works for her.

"You're out of your mind. You're completely insane! You have flipped your lid." The shoe points at him again, "It's a big commitment, it's a responsibility, it's hard work! It's coming home at the same time, to the same place, every day. Where is my other shoe?"

"I'm responsible." He points at the foot of the bed.

"No. Ben is responsible. You up and leave to New York in a moment's notice when you don't get your way."

Logan's jaw clench. She has no idea how well she aimed her knife by using the Ben reference. It burns like white, hot, iron steel on his skin. Especially now when she knows why and what he has been doing while he's in New York.

It reminds him of the way he and Chelsea used to fight.

"So you won't do it with me, but you'd do it with a guy like Ben?" He's not letting that one go. "What do you want? Bank statements? I can call my accountant and have him pull out all the real estate, stocks, trust funds, and family fortune for your review. That will take you about a year to get through."

"I don't care about your money, Logan." She looks insulted. She spits her words, waving her shoes like two huge exclamation marks, "A baby is real all the time. Here, there, everywhere. Even in Seattle -where you can't even stay the night."

He should have known that it would be thrown in his face at one point or another.

"A baby isn't something you can turn on and off as you please. It's a living thing. A breathing human-being with a brain. And feelings. It grows up." Rory paces in her underwear and his suit jacket, wearing the carpet between the bed and the washroom. Shoes in hand. "But it doesn't go away. You still have a kid, even if you take off to California on your motorcycle."

Suddenly, Logan is not sure they're having the same conversation. It's like the coffee shop all over again. She's too triggered to listen.

"Trust me, I should know. My dad popped in and out of our lives as he pleased. Just because he could. _Because she let him._ Setting us both up to wish he might, by some miracle, decides to sticks around this time," She drops her shoes bitterly, "He always left."

Ah. Okay. Definitely not the same conversation. Wait, didn't her parents just announce their engagement tonight?

Her monologue continues;

"How convenient it is to be with my mom now, huh?" Logan sits in his boxer briefs on the edge of the bed watching her vent, "How awesome for him. A second chance with her, the love of his life. While the constant reminder of his failure is all grown up, living on the other side of the country, and he has another child to recreate all he bailed on doing with me. A fucking do-over."

Her being upset over the rocket pocket is peanuts in comparison. Her eyes tell the storm brewing inside her.

"I don't care that she's happy. It doesn't change the fact that he didn't want me. Ever."

Logan eyes goes wide at her admission.

Rory claps her hands on her mouth utterly petrified by the impact the truth makes once it's out there in the open. She never said that at loud before.

She looks at him like she hopes he'll throw her a rope.

"Rory, do you want a hug?" Logan opened his arms a little, "Because I'm offering."

**~w~**

* * *

Rory's animated chatter describes the images displayed on the small screen of the compact camera. Somewhere between the rice terraces, Yangshou's rivers, and Guangxi's famous Crastic landscape and bridges, Logan stopped listening.

Talking photography distracts her.

This very moment is simple. Logan likes simple. Rory Gilmore is nestled between his legs, resting the back of her head on his chest. His back propped against the headboard. Both their phones on silent.

Earning this required precise coordinated flick-flacks, and then some. Logan feels drained.

His mind is a roller coaster. A blur. His concealed emotions ping-pongs back and forth. He wasn't ready to face the true repercussions of his mouth slip yet. He doesn't know how much she caught on, or how much has sunk. And to think he had daddy issues. The unexpected out she granted him, unknowingly, was appreciated.

He blinked at the flash. How he hates the camera aimed at him. "Stop it."

"Come on, Logan. You're too photogenic to shy away. The camera loves you. You have a smile that lights up the whole god-damn room."

"My eyes are very sensitive to the light." He protests.

"You're so cocky. It's my camera and I'd take as many pictures to my heart content." She batted her eyes at him, "I don't do that all the time."

"Yes, you do. Cut it out. Let's see how you'd feel having it aimed at you." He wrestled the camera out of her hands, flipping it over.

"Logan!" Rory squealed. The electronic clicked just as his teeth nipped her ear.

"There you go," He dropped the camera in her lap, untangling himself out of their web, and out of bed in search of whatever, "Now put that away. Or I'll break it."

Rory quickly switched the camera to preview mode. His blonde hair contrasting against her brown, his face remained hidden in it as possible as he could manage. The hint of his playful half-smile pressed to her ear. The surprise was written all over her face. Her eyes glinted.

Her mouth twitched into a smile, watching them frozen in time.

She looked happy.

**~w~**

"So, I'll see you when I'll see you?" Rory laced her fingers through his. She craves his attention, feeling the time capsule walls start to crumble as they are walking back to the car.

"I'll see you when I'll see you." He re-affirms. The car beeps when he disables the alarm.

"So, the only time we can see each other is to have sex?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"That's what I'm taking from this."

"Well, don't take that. That's not what I'm saying." He pulls her closer in a half-effort dance swirl, one arm snake around her waist. They lean against the car. Coat to coat.

"So… we can see each other under all kinds of conditions: alone, in a group…." Her fingers walk suggestively on his wrinkled jacket. Fishing for more clarification. "We can go for drinks, grab a burger, catch a movie? Hang out?"

"Yes."

"Even in Seattle."

"Yes. Even in Seattle," He tucks her hair behind her ear. "We see each other at work all the time."

"Can I do that in Seattle?" her free fingers grazed the back of his head down to his neck.

"No." Logan moans, pressing their heads together, "You can't do that in Seattle, not even alone. There will be no touching. No sex. And we keep it professional at work. Okay?"

He makes sure he has her consent. It's important.

"Right. I forgot. Mr. Keep it out of the office," She rolls her eyes, "You can't even follow your own rules."

When he fired her, in the heat of the moment, it crossed his mind - not for the first time – it would be easier if it stayed that way. Logan would be okay if she decides to quit because he is selfish.

He's not going to be the one to let her go. Ben wanted her on board. Ben stressed they professionally needed her.

Ben would fork him. A slow, painful death.

"That was a great gift," He defends himself. "Not that you would ever use it."

She glares at him.

"It was a slip-up; it won't happen again. I apologize." He is not entirely sorry.

"Who says I haven't?" She asks defyingly. She hates the fact he implies she is too chicken to do it.

"Then you should get on the phone next time and prove it," He challenges her cheekily.

"How do we always end up here?" Rory presses her cheek against the pulse in his neck.

"Because I'm good in bed, and you like that I'm good in bed," He has a cocky comeback for everything.

"So, what's in it for you?"

His life is so complicated at the moment. He can't imagine any other way else this could work. He suspects she's not completely sold on it.

"Between the choice of saying no - and not do it at all. Or say yes - and do it this way. I chose this way." Rory Gilmore knows he's honest.

She also chooses to ignore these are the same 'certain conditions' she walked out on two months ago.

Ben was right. Logan always gets what he wants.


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: Very happy to read all your thoughts on the last part! It's interesting to see your different views. __I am even happier to know some of you are re-reading this fic as we go along and discovering underlying things. There are some bits and pieces that are telling / looks different in second read.  
__  
Fun fact - the idea of their confrontation about that baby issue pretty much sparked this whole story. It also indirectly inspired- Shadow (my other story). Mostly because of some of the character backstory I researched. Anyhow- that fic has been getting some nice attention lately, so feel free to leave your comments there too if you check it out :)_

_So here we go...  
_

* * *

**January 2013**

**_New England_**

Champagne bottles popped, the letter 'e' dropped. It's the moment Logan retires from the party into Finn's kitchen patio. He rather be somewhere else.

What happened to exotic destinations parties? Where did all yachts, fast cars, parachutes, snow bikes, loose girls, and drunken haze go? Well, the drunken haze stayed. The drunk singing gets louder in the other room, Finn's voice above all.

When did they grow up this much to host a New Year's Eve party in Hartford, out of all places?

Logan lights the tip of the joint and quickly types a message.

"Rumor has it you quit substance." Logan looked up from his phone to meet Kim Pearson-Morgan.

"Don't listen to rumors. Want some? It's the medical kind." Aaron Rosen the most respectful dealer Logan ever dealt with.

"It's strange. Every time I'm around these people, someone, at some point, is randomly bound to recall a wild adventure with you as their fierce leader. The life of the party." She says, "Yet here you are, the odd man out."

He knows what she's implying. His outstanding single-hood.

"What else are they saying about me?"

"That you have your 'Chelsea look' on."

When they think he is out of hearing sight, that phrase is frequently whispered behind his back.

"I wish someone explained to me what that meant. Because I didn't know I had one." He sucks on the filter. Logan is a newsman, after all. Working a source comes with the territory. His friend's wife is an insightful outsider.

"According to Finn - it means Chelsea is on your mind. According to Steph, it means shit is happening. Colin sides with Steph."

Chelsea is always on his mind, in some way or another. He misses her lately. That hasn't happened in a while. But with all that is going on, he just accepts it. On days like today, for instance, he is almost tempted to pick up the phone and call her.

"Colin always sides with Steph. It gets him laid." Logan comments dryly, "What do you think?"

She shrugs, "I think you don't like me."

Logan looks puzzled, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a standoffish vibe I get."

"Can I be frank?" He asks, she nods in response. "I wouldn't say I don't like you, more of I don't know you. I wasn't around when you two started, because, well, you know…"

To be honest he doesn't remember much of that certain year.

**xx**

_"Then, I open her fridge, and it is full of whipped cream! I think I found my soul mate," An excited Finn announced on one end of the three-way phone call, "Mark my words. I'm gonna marry the girl."_

_Logan floated in the waves of international phone static. Like a kite on a string._

_"Of course she has a fridge full of cream," Colin said obviously, "She's a pastry-cook."_

_Logan chuckled._

_Logan is in London. The American blonde is stoned out of his mind in Bobbi's bed. His heart is bleeding into her mattress. John Waite's 'Missing you' plays in repeat in this head._

_"Oh shut your mouth, Colin. This is faith. Logan, mate, what do you think?"_

_"I think I'm high."_

_And it's only noon._

**xx**

"And now, I'm one foot here, one foot there. I don't get to see the guys too often. Grown-up life sucked us in. You seem to make Finn happy, that's all I care about."

Which is just a nice way to say he's indifferent to her? Getting to know her is just one more thing on his list. He used to be a better friend than that.

"Well, they are right about one thing. You do have your charming way with words." Kim Pearson-Morgan isn't sold. Logan can tell. "Do you know what's my New Years' resolution?"

"You're not supposed to tell your New Years' resolutions," He offers his Australian friend's wife a drag.

She shakes her head again, "I think this one has a better chance to come true if I tell you."

"Your prerogative." He shrugs, glance at his silent phone, and takes another relaxing drag.

"Please stop shutting Finn out." She studies his profile carefully, he lets no reaction, "He knows something is going on. Something big. And he knows Colin knows, because Colin is acting more anal than usual. He didn't mean to tell her, it slipped. He feels guilty. This dual-loyalty is tough."

Finn blesses his heart.

Logan knows Chelsea tricked Finn. He knows her like the back of his hand. It's like in that Tarantino movie when Samuel L. Jackson tells Robert DeNiro: 'You can always trust Melanie to be Melanie.'

Same with Chelsea. She sponges information out of him. Which is why the less Finn knows - the better.

Logan's phone beep. A smile creeps onto the blonde man's face. He puts out the joint.

"Please don't tell him I said anything."

Logan realizes he never responded.

"I'll keep your secret if you keep mine. I've got places to be, certain people to see," He winks at his friend's wife. His fingers texting a blind response.

"So, some rumors are true."

"Ask me no questions. I'll tell you no lies." He pockets his phone, "I'm off to raid your fridge."

**~w~**

* * *

"Good morning, Rory." Richard Gilmore's eyes never leave the morning paper when she enters.

"Good morning, Grandpa." She kissed his cheek in greeting, taking her a seat at the table, "Good morning, Grandma."

"A lovely morning, isn't it? A little chilly, though." Emily butters her toast.

Rory agrees. The first signs of morning vacuumed the warmth out the soothing cocoon she carefully weaved the night before. Rolling out of bed was extremely difficult this morning.

Breakfast is a routine they have developed over the past couple of days. When Rory unpacked her stuff into the pool house on boxing day. Symbolic. It's the same thing she did last year, for the same reasons. Some things don't ever change.

The pool house beat the trundle bed hands down.

It has a massive bed. A pampering bath. And to top it all - it was private.

**_xx_**

_"Rory, can't we just talk about it?" Lorelai stood at the door between the kitchen and her daughter's old bedroom. Gigi's new room. "Let's talk. I want to talk. We didn't use to be like this."_

_"You already said yes." Rory disorderly stuffed her belonging into her traveling backpack, "What is there to talk about?"_

_"This is not how I wanted you to find out." Lorelai admitted, "I've been waiting for us to get it right for years. When the opportunity presented itself – saying 'Yes' was obvious."_

_"Congratulations. I wish you two a wonderful life together."_

_"This is big, Kid. Tell me what you think. Tell me how you feel. I want to know."_

_"You know what I think. You know how I feel." Rory loaded her brand new carry on with her photography equipment, hard-drives, clothing garments, shoes._

_"No, I don't know. Maybe I should ask Logan." The attack is her mother's best defense mechanism, "Or maybe I should ask my father? Since when does my father knows more about your love life than I do?"_

_Rory's eyes harden. She will not let her turn this on her. She will not let her mother ruin this for her. Not while little fragments of their harmony still lingered._

_"Maybe you should," She slams the suitcase shut._

_"What's with that guy? Can't you see that he is toxic? A dead end. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"_

_Rory's tongue whipped sharply, "Because I'm your daughter. I'm just like you after all, aren't I?"_

**_xx_**

Rory poured herself a cup of coffee. The pastries looked delicious.

"How you'd like your grapefruit this morning?" Her grandfather flipped the fold over. She can see the hint of a sly smile in his eyes.

"Grapefruit?" Emily Gilmore questioned, "I didn't know you liked grapefruit for breakfast."

"Neither did I," Rory muttered into her coffee.

It depends on what kind of grapefruit, she assumed.

"Had I known you liked grapefruit for breakfast, I would have made sure you'd get some." Emily put down her butter knife.

Rory coughed on her coffee. God, that sounded cluelessly dirty.

"I'll go check if Mariah has some in the kitchen." Emily Gilmore assigned herself a mission.

"I bet she'll find some in the pool house," Richard says nonchalantly.

She won't. Logan left early to get to his 8 a.m in New York on time. At least he said his citrus goodbye this time. A bitter-sweet farewell.

"It's better to start the car on neutral if one wishes to sneak unnoticed. Make less noise." He grandfather continues conversing.

"Duly noted."

"Have I told you about that one time I traveled to Fez?"

**~w~**

* * *

**_Seattle_**

"Rory!" Blue-haired Kate crashed into her with a force when she stepped into Current's offices for the first time in months on Monday morning. Rory nearly fell by the impact.

The hug that followed was just as fierce.

"Look at you!" Kate pulled away, giving her a once over, "You look like you fell from a barrel of stardust!"

Rory grinned at the mental image. A perfect description of her first weekend back.

January 6th was a Sunday. And the last day she's off the payroll. Apparently, it was a good enough technicality for Logan to make an exception and let the rules slide. He repeatedly made sure she knew starting Monday all the regular rules apply.

He would have it tattooed on her arm if he didn't think that would be telling.

They spent nearly the whole Sunday confined in his bed. Seattle's sky was pouring rain, and there was nowhere else Rory wanted to be.

"Rory," Ben smiled behind the graphic designer, "Good to have you back, let's do lunch. Talk comics."

Talk comics. Rory didn't know if he really meant talk comics, or if it was something else that he wanted. Was it a secret code for personal communication?

"Oh no, you can't! I call dibs on lunch." Kate protested, "Lunch with the boss or with us girls? It's a no-brainer. We have to fill you on all the gossip!"

"Let's do it next week. Give you some time to settle back in." Ben offered flexibility, rolling his eyes, "One hour, Kate. Tops."

Rory smiled in agreement. Kate clapped excitedly at the extended lunch.

"Ben," Nicole dropped her arm around Rory in solidarity, "Now that's Rory back, what about…"

"It's not my decision." Ben held his hands up and started to walk away, pointing to Logan's office, where the golf club was flying around in the air, "Take that up with him."

"Uff," Nicole's eyes flared with annoyance.

Rory looked at Kate quizzing. The graphic designer rolled her eyes. "Just wait for lunch. Oh, look at the time, it's coffee time. I want to hear all about China!"

**~w~**

"He taps his foot. Loudly." Nicole's veggie-sushi fell apart in the soy saucer. "It drives me insane. I wish that this contract never came through. Work used to be fun before all the new people came and the re-organization."

Patel - the new graphic designer - who occupied the spare desk in the girls' office, was not Nicole's favorite.

As far as Rory was concerned, nothing changed. She still reported directly to Ben.

"That's a new trait to the list," Shiri commented, "Don't dis them all, the new web-developer Manuel is eye candy. And the accent, wow."

"True," Kate concurred, focusing on Rory. "Gabe, the product manager is not bad on the eye, either. Single too."

"You are married with two kids." Rory reminded Kate.

"Yes, but not blind. Jees. Ryan doesn't mind. He says fantasies spice things up."

There's no way Ryan said that. Ryan doesn't say much in general.

"There's are other free desks at the office, I just don't understand why he has to sit with us. He upsets the all-girls dynamic. Right, Kate?"

Nicole made the blue-haired graphic designer nod half-heartily.

"So what's the problem? Ask for a switch." Rory suggested. It looks like Kate is not too bothered about it as Nicole. Rory is starting to think that Patel sharing their office might actually benefit her.

Less gossiping sessions, less chance of mouth slips.

The group around the table let a collective groan in response. Shiri shook her head like Rory should know better.

"Logan said no," Nicole said sourly.

"He told her she can pick any desk _she_ wants and mobilize _herself_ freely," Shiri recalled.

"So ask Ben. Ben is reasonable." Ben opted for a more pleasant, democratic, peace-making, storm-weathering management style than Logan. Logan was a hard-headed force to be reckoned with.

"Patel is on '_Team Logan'_." Nicole air quotes, "Ben's words. I tried everything. Every tactic in the book; I asked nicely, I tried to negotiate, I filed a petition, I flirted with him, I sucked up to him. I begged. He won't budge."

Yeah, good luck with that. Rory thought.

"She has been at it for months." Shiri backed the editor.

"I exhausted every angle. He can't be manipulated."

"Okay. Tough luck, get used to him." Rory said indifferently. Trying to decide which piece of Shushi to select next, "Patel seems a nice guy. He can't be that bad. Besides, he does the same job as Kate. It makes sense for them to sit as a team."

Nicole narrowed her eye at her, glaring, her chopstick waved dangerously, "Has Logan rubbed on your tongue?"

"What?" Rory asked alarmed. Was it obvious? She dressed in her modest outfit today despite knowing he wouldn't dare to leave any love marks.

"That's exactly what he said last week." Kate offered an additional explanation.

Ah. Phew.

"Unless… Ah! Why didn't I think about it before?" Nicole's face brightened up considerably at the thought her mind birthed, "Rory, you have to talk to Logan."

"Me? What does it have to do with me?" Rory asked surprised, Kate and Shiri offered no support, "It's my first day back."

"You share the space too. Plus, you know the boss." Nicole suggested seriously.

"So do you." Rory retorted back. She was not going to ask him. She planned to stay a safe distance from him until his magic touch weaned.

"But you know to work the boss," Nicole smiled appeased, "At least a little."

**~w~**

* * *

"Is everything is okay?" Logan glanced sideways from his screen.

"Yes," Rory said quickly, standing self-aware at the door of his office.

"Just checking. You've been standing there for quite a while. Not to mention the eight laps you've circled outside the door. I was starting to worry if these glass walls will hold. Jericho walls would have fallen by now."

"Yes, everything's fine. Um… Can I close the door?"

"If you wish. But it's better if you don't." He leans back in his chair, gestures at the other seat then joined his hands in a diamond shape. "Is there anything you need?"

Right. Professional.

"Umm... It's about Patel." She steps in but remains standing near the chair. His desk suffices a safe distance.

"Patel?"

"I. Well, I don't particularly mind him. He's a nice guy and all. I'm mean, he's funny, and he's a well qualified graphic designer too. I think. I've only known him for less than a day." She rambles under his intense eyes, "But can he, possibly, move a desk?"

"Move a desk?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Logan's smile stretched.

"He's upsetting the dynamic."

"Upsetting the dynamic?" He repeats amused.

"Yes." God, she feels stupid. She can't believe she got dragged into this childish episode.

"Hold that thought," Logan pushes out of his chair, when he reaches the door he calls into the adjoining office, "Ben I owe you five hundred bucks."

Rory hears his laughter rings at Ben's response, "I'll make it a double or nothing."

What was the bet on? Her?

Logan shuts the door.

"I thought it's better to leave the door open." She says.

"Right. Explain that to me." He smirks and leans his body against the desk. His hands rest on top, at each side of his body. His brown shoes crossed at the ankles, "Because I just lost five hundred dollars on you. I had faith you'd hold longer."

His light blue dress shirt is rolled up to the middle of his arm, paired with charcoal dress pants. Rory thinks he orders them custom made or tailor them.

She shouldn't be thinking of his pants.

"What?" She wished he stayed behind the desk. She can sniff hints of his cologne. "You bet on me? What's double or nothing?"

"If you get me to agree to move him. So, explain that to me. What's your argument?"

"My argument?" Rory shallows. He has that look. Rory Gilmore knows he's not gonna touch her because it's the office, and it all glass. He's going to sexually argue with her instead.

Which is actually worse.

"Yeah, how does he upsets the dynamic?" His smirk deepens.

By the time she leaves his office, maybe less than fifteen minutes later, her body itches to go home and free the 'Logan Rocket' from its exile.

"Well….?" Nicole eager eyes glinted as a flustered Rory returned to her desk.

"Consider it done?" Rory distracted herself by opening as many browser windows as possible.

"No! You're kidding me! He said yes?!" Rory simply nodded at very surprised Nicole. "Did you blow him or something? I've been pestering him for months! And each time he said no."

They can't do the arguing thing anymore. Rory thinks. Not at work.

"He and Ben had a bet how long you'd keep it going. He was going to re-locate him anyways."

**~w~**

* * *

"So how was China?" Ben asked.

Rory found herself looking forward to lunch with Ben. Logan was less enthusiastic when he found out, but thankfully kept his mother shut.

The office was busier now. The workload increased ever since the James Parker deal came through. Rory enjoyed the additional team-work. It was nice to work with new minds.

"China was great!" Excitement takes over Rory's face. "What an interesting country. The culture is so rich, the landscape is breathtaking. Don't get me started about the food! I don't think I can eat the fake Chinese food we have here, ever again. And I love fake Chinese food!"

Ben chuckled, "Did you try the Vermicelli Rolls?"

"Oh yes! It's like heaven died in your mouth." She wears a dreamy look on her face. Rory Gilmore loves her food.

The tall man nods his agreement shyly, "Priz's mom makes it for breakfast sometimes."

"Now I'm jealous."

"Rory, do you like working at Current?"

"I do." She adds uncertain, "I missed it. Why?"

"It?" Ben questions, "So what's the plan? I take it the comics is back on?"

She's not quite sure if they are actually talking comics, or skirting around a different subject.

It was nice to be back. Only it wasn't entirely the same.

Logan was practicing social distancing. He times his morning arrival to the office thirty minutes before hers. He scheduled a re-occurring conference call with his father at the end of the day to make sure they never leave at the same time.

It always runs later than intended.

She knows he figured out her coffee routine down to a tee, to avoid running into each other in the break room. Once, they accidentally end up there together. Their fingers brushed when he accepted his one sugar coffee.

He inaudibly reminded her: No touching.

She kept her clock-work system ever since.

"I don't know. The Facebook thing is tanking." Rory decides to keep it professional. She has been posting some sketches. The attention and traffic were next to non-existent.

"It's jumbled. Lost." Ben sums it up.

"It's not jumbled," She protests.

"I keep up with your comics, Rory. I never truly get it." Ben hesitated, "You should talk to him about that. He'd help. He's _good_ at that stuff."

Rory bites her lip. "I'd rather not be Huntzbergered."

She swears Ben is dying to say something sarcastic but held himself back.

"Off the record, okay?" He starts, she nods.

_He knows._

"I know you sell photos to 'Getty', on occasion. I don't approve. But as long as 'Getty' is happy…" Ben sighs, "But if a major career move is in place…"

Rory aimlessly moves around her fork, "I'm thinking of Morocco. Same lines as China."

"When?" Ben's eyes are like lasers through his glasses, "I need more than two weeks' notice to make the transition easier. I need to know what the plan is."

"I didn't plan that far ahead." Rory moves uncomfortably under his eyes. "Mid-February. Maybe."

Ben sighed, "It this going to be a re-occurring thing? Another LWOP is not really an option. We might need to renegotiate your contract. I have to check the legalities."

Rory nods.

"And Rory," He warns, "'Getty' gets a heads up about this. Not a memo."

**~w~**

* * *

"Is Ben back yet?" Logan and his golf club towered over Shiri's desk. The blonde was frantically looking for Ben for the last hour. He walked the whole office in a restless frenzy.

It was 2 p.m. lunch was long over. Ben wasn't in his office.

Logan might have missed him when he popped in to check on the web-developers.

"No. Anything else I can help you with?" The office manager kept stapling the various documents on her desk. Indifferent.

"No. I need Ben."

"Nothing changed since you asked five minutes ago," Shiri's bored voice answered, "He's tall, you can't miss him."

Logan frowned. He was with the web developers for longer than five minutes.

"Where did he go?"

"Lunch with Rory. Location was not specified." She answered in the same tone, "We went through this already. Can you put that thing away? I do not wish to be decapitated."

"That's a long lunch," Logan commented. He tried to play it down, but it bugged him to be out of the loop.

"Must be a fun lunch. The second this week." Shiri eyes her boss. He was asking for it. She reached for a random paper, "Can you sign…"

Logan didn't seem to appreciate the insinuation, "I'm not signing anything. Just tell me when he's here."

"He's here."

Logan spun around quickly, his golf club missing Shiri's head by not much. Ben, an umbrella in hand, looked at him funny. "All is good?"

"Finally! I need you to see this!" Logan and his golf club impatiently huddled Ben into his office, shutting the door forcefully behind them like he has coals under his feet. "What took you so long to get back?"

Inside the glass office, Logan proceeds to beckon his business partner into the chair in front of the computer.

"Logan, I don't want to see the specs of the new collector spacecraft Lego." Ben tried to protest, "I have tons of work to do."

The blonde pointed at the screen.

"Tell me what I'm looking at." Logan's tone is different. It isn't the playful excited one he usually uses for comic relief or his space obsession related topics. It wasn't his 'we-have-a-problem' business tone, either. "I have no idea what I'm looking at."

An e-mail attachment is open on Logan's screen. Ben blinks. A black and white grained photo. An ultrasound image. Ben angles his head to try and make out what he sees.

A uterus?

"I think that's…" Ben's brain makes the deduction, "Um, a baby?"

"Yeah," Logan leans on his golf club beside him, staring at the screen in awe. He whispers. "My baby."

His baby. Ben is equally stunned. Logan's Manhattan project bore fruit.

"What part of it?" Logan asks.

Both men angle their heads the same way, trying to figure it out.

Both can't believe this is actually happening.

"I.. I don't know. All of it? Priz usually explains that stuff to me." Ben punched his friend's shoulder. Hard. "Shit, Logan, you're going to be a dad. That is so wack."

**~w~**

* * *

"Whatchya reading?" Rory tried to peek over his shoulder. Logan looked engrossed in a middle section of the book in his hands. She loves catching him distracted, which seems to happen a lot lately.

It made the best photos.

It's Saturday. The rain made them flee into the Indigo book store. Despite the very strict restrictions she waits nearly breathlessly to when they hang out.

Rory never understands people who skipped into the middle of the book at book stores. The middle should remain a mystery. It's cheating.

Logan is a cheater. He cheats at Battleship even though he'd go down dying denying it.

"Nothing, it's just some book." He says, quickly closing it set to return it to the shelf.

She grabs it out of his hands, their arms brushing to which he hisses, "No touching, Rory."

"_The Life of Dad: The Making of the Modern Father._" She ignores him, reading aloud the back cover, "_The story of fatherhood and what it means to be a father today, based on a decade-long study of new and expecting fathers._"

Logan's phone beeps with an e-mail notification. She can by now tell the different sounds of his phone. He takes the immediate out to check it.

"Interesting reading material," Rory comments. She finds it weird.

"Yeah? Is yours better? Hand it over." Logan holds his hands out, waiting.

Hesitantly, Rory places the colorful paperback cover with the blue label in his hand.

"Lonely Planet? Morocco?" He doesn't look at her. The book's pages flutter until he reaches the chrome pictures in the middle.

She guesses this is the heads up.

"I've always wanted to go to Fez." She says gently.

Logan can't help but think how ironic it is. He's growing roots, and she's growing wings.

They couldn't be in more at odds with their life.


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: Hello readership. Lucky you! Two chapters (relatively) close together. Still going over your amazing amazing reviews. It's very interesting to see what different readers are taking from this and how close or far it is from what I imagined.  
_

_Ben is my absolute favorite. Watch out for Ben._

* * *

**February 2013**

_**Seattle**_

February came all too soon. And it was unusually cold.

The re-organization resulted her interaction with Logan at work was minimized to, well, non-existent. Her lunch with Ben left her with the impression it was intentional. Logan frustratingly perfected the social distancing after he learned of the Morocco plan.

Things mellowed a little after he processed.

Yet, Rory can't wholeheartedly say that completing a 5,000 piece Star Wars spacecraft puzzle is high on her list of fun things to do.

Neither was visiting the "Play It Again Sport" store to buy hiking shoes and traveling equipment. Rory would have bought a lot of stuff she doesn't need if he hadn't tagged along. It's the Lorelai Gilmore in her that finds sales-people trustworthy.

It was nice that he offered his help.

She reckoned he got a bit of a kick out of it. He got very opinionated about the hiking shoes.

"He's seeing someone new," Shiri conspired over her coffee, "I catch him to space out all dreamy all the time. And he walks around looking all happy. It's cute."

Shiri means sexually. The insinuation bothered her. And it bothered her that it bothered her.

Rory knows, first hand, Logan is not sexing things up. Unless, he was getting it somewhere else.

She had tried, failing to wear him down. Logan was determined to enforce the no-touching rule.

The closest she got was sleeping in the same bed. He kept it strictly PG, barricading himself with pillows. He left before she woke up.

In general, it's like dating in middle school. Only they aren't dating.

_It's complicated._

"And the best thing is – the golf club has retired!" Shiri was happy about that.

"How come he's still single, anyways? Guys like that are never single." Rory eyed Alison from marketing discreetly. She was pretty.

"Guys like what?"

"Successful, easy-going, well off. Down-right gorgeous." Alison counted Logan's qualities. Logan has yet to realize the newest member of his marketing team has developed a crush. And Rory wasn't going to be mentioning it, because he'd find it amusing.

Luckily, Shiri quickly shut it down, "Oh, Honey, trust me, not all that glitters is gold."

"Don't get any ideas," Nicole chimed in, "He's one piece of work. Plus, he is the boss."

"But there is no 'no dating' policy, right?" Alison inquired.

Nicole seemed too engrossed in her apple all of a sudden.

"I've been here the longest, and I don't know of any," Kate said, "But if you want Ben all over your ass, be my guest. Because he won't like it."

Kate didn't even know how right she was.

**~w~**

* * *

"Maybe we should check it out when you get back from Morocco," Gabe mentioned to Rory. It was something about a 3D multimedia exhibit. Rory wasn't sure. She just nodded.

Logan and Ben stood separately from the rest of the office's peeps. The topic of their conversation was in Logan's phone. Logan looked excited about whatever it was. Their beers are quarter full.

Nicole and Shiri were fishing men are the bar. They tried to convince Rory to join for a little 'farewell' fun, but Rory decided to stick with the guys from work.

But as it turns out, Gabe, the product manager - was trying to fish her.

"I'm going to treat myself with another," Rory announced at her empty glass.

"I'll get it for you." Gabe offered, "It's your last drink in Seattle, after all."

"No, it's okay. I've got it." Rory took her glass and made a beeline to the bar.

It's her last night in Seattle. She wants Logan to stop playing with Ben and send her the signal he's leaving, so she can make her excuses.

Why is she waiting on him anyway? She decides she should make them regardless. See if he cares.

"Don't waste your breath, man." Brian, the web-developer, says once Rory is out of hearing sight and the project manager's gaze lingers on her, "That girl has a 'B' tattooed all over her forehead."

"What do you mean? Rory's real nice. She doesn't give bitch vibes."

"Yeah, she's a laugh." Keith agreed, "You should see her play darts."

Brian shook his head, "B for boss. In bold, flashing lights."

"I thought the lunches were a bit weird…" Gabe contemplated, "But… no way! The guy's married."

"Marriage never stopped Rory before," Keith said knowingly.

"Pfft, Ben? Give me a break that guy would never look at anything but his wife."

"L-O-G-A-N." Keith spelled out, "Logan."

Gabe looked at them doubtfully.

"The guy's smart, keeping it quiet. Dude, you don't get to be the CEO of a company at twenty-two if you're not smart. The big boss man has her tapped."

"You don't get this much time off if you don't have an in with the boss." Keith pointed out.

"Yeah, you think Patel moving desk, the very same day she's back, is accidental?" Dylan questions, "Doubt it. Nicole has been at it for months. Nothing moved him."

"So true story. A few months back, Rory got a package delivered to the office - for her birthday…." Brian lowered his voice, "Let's say a personal gift."

"The kind that buzz, if you know what I mean." Dylan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"We were teasing her a bit about it. Harmless fun. Rory usually takes the joke." Keith explained, "It was especially funny because she got so worked up about it."

"Yeah, you got the vibe at the office. People play jokes on each other all the time." Dylan contributed.

"Yeah, long story short. Logan put the foot down. Very unusual." Keith summed up, holding his fingers apart, "We were this close to getting fired."

Rory Gilmore was waving her goodbyes to the girls at the bar. She turned and waved the boys too.

"Stay away if you like your job, dude."

**~w~**

* * *

She left the bar first, and he wasn't too late to follow.

Now, they are conducting a staring contest, standing on opposite sides of the elevator.

It chimes its arrival to the 5th-floor.

"Mine or yours?"

"Mine." He says decisively. His eyes are already undressing her, "Definitely mine."

**xx**

Logan feels her slip out of bed, silently putting her clothes back together. She thinks he's asleep, but Logan never sleeps much.

It's the first time she walks out on him. And Logan knows it won't be the last if this continues.

Logan Huntzberger knows girls like Rory Gilmore. He used to be married to one.

And he can't believe he is back at square one again.

**xx**

When Rory drags her traveling backpack out the door in the wee hours of the night, she finds him standing in her doorway dressed in tan chinos, a dark t-shirt, and his leather jacket.

"Looks heavy. You should pack lighter." He swings the straps over his shoulder. "What did you put in it? Rocks?"

"My taxi is waiting downstairs."

"You won't be needing it. I told the doorman to pay him."

"Logan, my flight leaves in three hours."

"I know. I'm driving you myself."

**xx**

The glow of the vending machine reflects its light on Logan's face.

"Please, don't."

Rory lowers the big camera to reveal her bright eyes. She took the photo anyway. Her boarding pass peeks from the side pocket of her day backpack.

"First one on the memory card. It's a test run." Logan doesn't find the explanation excusable.

"Here," He hands her a Mars bar, "Air Canada doesn't provide snacks on short flights."

"Important detail."

"Internet stick." He fishes the electronic device out of his pocket, "It's charged. You can add credit, if necessary. The information is on the card. Or call Natalie, she'd take care of it."

"I'll figure it out." They both know she won't ever call Natalie.

Rory slips the internet stick into the pocket of her soft-shell jacket. It is one size larger, just in case it's cold, and she needs another layer. Her leggings tucked into the hiking shoes he argued her into buying.

His hands end up in his pockets.

"You can't get past security. So…." _this is it._

"Airports are no man's land." He says.

"It actually looks like it's packed with law enforcement personnel," She looks around trying to assess the numbers of security staff.

"You know that Tom Hanks' movie?" He continues, "Airports are, technically, considered to be outside the country."

"I don't think that's true," She steps closer to him, smiling, her hand grip on his open leather jacket like a lifeline. She loves his logic.

"For the sake of the argument." He tilts his head a little.

She presses her lips to his hesitantly. She gains confidence when he welcomes her advance. Their kiss is slow, exploring, sweet, exhaustive. She never wants to stop kissing him.

Leaving makes her both sad and happy.

"Got your ticket?"

She nods.

"Got your suitcase?"

"Big backpack shipped."

"Got your leaving smile?" She feels the moment start to tear them apart.

She hangs her head and gives him a watery smile.

"Now, now…" Logan prompted her chin up gently, so their eyes meet.

He gives her a shadow of a smile.

"Here's looking at you, kid."

Her lip quiver at his Casablanca reference. Rick's farewell to Ilsa.

"Three weeks, Logan. I'll see you when I'll see you."

He never re-affirm. Logan steps back, his hands frame her face like he's taking a picture.

"Get on the plane, Rory."

**~w~**

* * *

"What's going on?" Ben, holding a huge Toys R Us bag in hand, walked into chaos the next morning. Men are dis-assembling the glass walls. His employees are packing their desks into carton boxes. Technicians are opening their tools boxes. Movers are mobilizing the larger furniture.

"Logan is redecorating." Shiri stood holding a stack of papers, watching Logan striding and barking orders with his golf club. He looked like the man in control.

"Redecorating?"

"The new interior design was just faxed. We are moving two floors up." Shiri passed Ben the floor plans, "Don't you just wish you could melt that annoying golf-club? He ordered a yellow couch."

"Since when?" Ben questioned.

"This morning. This was already in play when I arrived," Shiri eyed Ben with interest, "What's in the bag?"

"A Lego set."

"A Lego set?"

"It's his birthday. Hold this for me. Will ya?" Ben deposited the bag with the office manager.

"Logan, what's going on?" Ben approached his business partner, who was busy naming the furniture to be moved.

"We're expanding. We need more space. Good. You have the new interior design prints." Logan reached for the floor plan, "Chelsea was quick."

Chelsea?

"When did you talk to Chelsea?"

"This morning."

"It's 9 o'clock." Ben pointed out. "Chelsea Rosen?"

"Chelsea Rose. I was up early." Logan corrects, "It's too crowded. The crowdedness hurts productivity. Right, Nicole?"

"Absolutely," The editor carrying a box marked with her name, chimed cheerfully. "I was promised a window desk. You're not going to team me with Patel, are you?"

"Whatever you want," Logan said distractedly while looking at the blueprints.

"Should I pack Rory's desk too?" Nicole questioned.

"Touch it - and you die." Ben and Nicole are taken aback at the blunt answer.

The domino blocks fall into place in Ben's mind. Ben tells Nicole to get lost with a nod of his head.

"Logan, let's talk outside."

"Can't talk right now. All the communication needs to be set up upstairs by 2 p.m. We haven't even started uninstalling things."

"I wasn't asking. Get a move on."

Logan hates when Ben channeled Mitchum Huntzberger.

"Maybe you should take the day off." Ben asked gently, "Did you sleep at all?"

"I'm fine. Happy fucking birthday to me."

"Okay. Okay." Ben runs his hand through his messy mop of hair, "I get that you got blindsided. I understand you need to be active to ride this out. So, I'm gonna humor you in this."

"Good. Glad we're on the same page." Logan waved the stack of prints and started to head back into the office.

"But Logan," Ben grabbed his arm, "You need to get your shit together. You're having a baby. You need to grow up. Fast."

"That has nothing to do with…" Logan started to lay out his argument.

"No. You need to listen this time." Ben cut him off, "I know you like to think that New York and Seattle can be separated. But the truth is - that it can't. No matter how hard you try. New York, New England, California, London, Seattle. It's all connected. And you know it. It's not a different Logan who is living those lives. It's the same one."

Logan's jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the golf club.

"Now, I'm gonna pack her desk," Ben pulled the golf club out of his hand, "And I'm taking that with me before you poke someone's eye out."

"I have a full set of those. You know." Logan called at the taller's man back.

Ben turned back to his friend, "You know where to find me when you decide you want to talk. Happy birthday."

**~w~**

* * *

**_Montreal, Quebec, Canada_**

The television in her connection gate in Trudeau International Airport is playing VH1. It amuses her that someone as bald as Phil Collins was once considered one of the biggest rock stars of his time. What happened to the man's career anyway?

Phil sings as he sits on a set of stairs that's suppose to be New York.

_Got your ticket, got your suitcase, got your leaving smile_.

She heard that line before, only mere hours ago. It's sweet, him sending her off quoting Phil Collins and Casablanca. It's romantic.

But suddenly, Rory is not too sure. In the final scene, Rick sends Ilsa away to be with Victor.

He never re-affirmed I'll see when I'll see you.

Rory wipes the first tear.

Logan Huntzberger wasn't sending her off. Logan Huntzberger just broke up with her.

Not that they can break up because they're not dating. In Seattle.

But he didn't break up with her in Seattle, did he?

He broke up with her at the _**airport**_.

**~w~**

* * *

_**Seattle**_

Priscilla Atwood tightly hugged the robe to her slim figure as she hurried for the door.

The doorbell rang again, impatiently. Priscilla felt a jolt of De-Ja-Vu hit through her body. Good things never come out of Logan Huntzberger appearing unannounced on her doorstep. In the middle of the night.

_"It's over. I ended it."_

_Her husband is standing behind her. Ben doesn't look surprised - just extremely worried._

_"It's my fucking birthday."_

History does tragically repeats itself.

"We made you star cookies." She was a little under-prepared to how crumbled his face looked, "Miella said they are your favorite. You better come in."

**~w~**

"There's a body in your office." Shiri bee lined behind Ben into the new break-room for the second morning in a row.

"Is he breathing?" The tall man asked calmly.

"Yes. I double-checked with a mirror."

"Good, leave him be."

"Why doesn't he sleep on the couch in his office?"

"Because it's yellow," Ben says as if its a legitimate answer.

**~w~**

* * *

**_Aspen, Colorado_**

"What's with that phone?" Colin's voice startles Logan. "I thought this whole point of this birthday ski-trip was to get away from Mitchum and his motivational talk. Stop working."

Logan wasn't hiding from Mitchum Huntzberger. He was hiding from Ben.

"I'm not working." Logan refilled his empty glass with the bottle of scotch Colin brought out to the balcony. The slopes were dark and empty at this time of night.

"So, what's with that phone?"

Logan pushed the phone in Colin's direction.

"You're shitting me." Colin says flabbergasted, "Is that what I think that is?"

"8 weeks."

"Fuck." The lawyer downs his liquor and pours himself another. Inside the cabin, the poker game is going strong. Finn is surprisingly winning. "You should tell him."

"Not yet," Logan says.

"You guys won't believe it! Yours truly just humiliated Robert! Won him for all he had and all that I owned him from last time!" The Australian dramatically stepped out of the cabin. "What are you girls yacking about?"

"I'll drink to that," Logan raises his glass.

"So, I've got some news." Finn pulled a chair closer to his friends.

"I always end up doing tons of legal paperwork when he says that." Colin tilted his glass.

"When he says 'I've got a great idea' - we end up in jail." Logan reasoned.

"Either way still results in me doing tons of legal paperwork." Colin complained, "At least that's fun. Did you buy another shit-hole mall?"

"Kim's pregnant." The Australian said excitedly, "She wanted to wait until we got the all-clear before I told you."

Logan froze. He didn't see that curve-ball coming.

"It's a June baby."

"FUCKING SHIT." You can always count on Colin to react well. "Please don't tell me both of you are going to discuss night-cups in a whole different way now. I call veto."

Logan kicked the lawyer under the table.

"Damn it, Logan." Colin jabbed Logan back.

"The two of us? Are you canoodling with my wife behind my back?" Finn asked.

_Don't steal the thunder._ Logan mouthed.

"Okay, would you two girls just stop with the looks? I'm in my natural state of drunk. Not blind, either." Finn said annoyed, "Neither of you have yet to congratulate me. Some mates you are."

"Logan is having a baby." Colin blurted out.

The blonde sighed, awarding the lawyer with a disapproving look.

"Yeah, okay, and Mitchum Huntzberger is mother Theresa."

"Tell him, Logan."

"It's true."

"Yeah? Who did you knock up? Anyone I know?" Finn wondered jokingly, "You've been sleeping with the whole eastern board's female population lately. I never bothered to keep track."

"I was not." Logan protests, glad to learn Kim kept their agreement.

"You had a lot of blondes for Thanks Giving, Logan."

"Oh, you're never going to believe this! Well maybe you will, because you are as coo-coo as he." Logan didn't know Colin felt this strongly about it, "Logan here has been masturbating into plastic cups for months! Got a freaking ultrasound photo on his phone to prove it too."

"Got that off your chest now, Colin?" Logan mumbled.

"What?" Finn inquired hurt, "Why didn't I know about this?"

"Why? Why?" Colin was still venting steam, "Because he's scared you'd rat him out to Chelsea. That's why."

"Fuck you, Colin." Logan and Finn said at the same time.

"Only stating the facts. I call it as I see it." Colin said defensively.

"But," Finn looked utterly confused. "Chelsea said you called…"

"You called Chelsea? When? Why am I out of the loop?" Colin interjected back into the conversation.

"Because it's none of your business." Logan spat.

"None of my business?" Colin deflected his dismissive attempt, "It's my scotch you're drinking when the shit hits the fan. So I'm making it is damn well my business. You've been spinning out of control since October. Ben agrees."

"Ben should keep his mouth shut," Logan lashed out darkly, pushing out of his chair.

"Colin…" Finn interjected.

"He's not snapping out of it, Finn." Colin cut the Australian off. "If you want Ben to keep quiet, then you should stop fucking the help. Logan."

The help? That infuriates him.

"I'm not fucking the help because she took off to fucking Morocco! Fine? Happy? Good!" Logan stormed off in anger.

It wasn't the worst birthday he remembered, but it was damn near close.

Colin rubbed his temples in frustration. He should have kept his mouth shut. Lashing out Logan was the worst kind to deal with.

"I believe I'm a couple of chapters behind. Who are we talking about?" Finn questioned calmly.

"Rory Gilmore." Colin sighed.

"Rory Gilmore?" Finn wondered, "When did that happen again? How do you know that?"

Colin shrugged, "Ben called for legal consultation. I'm not sure. But I'm starting to think Ben has a legitimate reason to worry."

"Rory Gilmore, huh?" Finn said contemplating, "She must have shuffled the cards pretty good if our boy called Chelsea."

Colin looked at the Australian, he never thought of it that way.

"Finn, you can't tell Chelsea. Any of it. I mean it."

"Colin, mate, you make it sound like I do it on purpose. I'm offended." Finn filled in the blanks, "It's not me who's calling her at four in the morning asking her to help redecorate the office. She knows him better than anyone. She'll figure it out herself."

Colin sighed again.

"Maybe that's not a bad thing." Finn pointed out.

"Congratulations, Finn." Colin refilled his glass, adding to Finn's, "I never thought someone in their right mind will ever want to procreate with you. Cheers."

"Cheers."

"Please don't name me legal guardian in case of death."

"No worries. I'll name Logan." Finn let burn of the liquor linger on the back of his throat, "The baby thing, that's true too?"

Colin typed the password on Logan's phone. Setting your wedding date as your PIN is stupid.

"With a surrogate. He keeps staring at that ultrasound. Why did you think it was glued to his hand?"

"Porn."

**~w~**

* * *

**_New York_**

"What about this one? Listen to this one." Honor flipped through the folder of potential prospects. "Mother of three, a firm believer in love, faith, and giving back. An avid Zomba dancer. The husband is a carpenter. Evangelist. Huh, your child will be immersed with godly fear and morals from birth. Maybe that's a good thing…"

New surrogate candidates. Logan is recalculating his steps.

Dr. Lockheart called to update the last scan showed no pulse. There was a baby. And now there isn't.

Logan is told it's not out of the ordinary. It still hurt regardless.

In the same breath, she told him his surrogate quit due to emotional strain.

Logan thinks that is bullshit.

"I am marking this one as 'potential'." Honor is at a loss, so she acts as their mother.

She ordered cucumber water. Who the hell drinks that?

"Oh! What about this one? Of Brazilian descent, athletic. She sounds like Giselle. Maybe your baby will be born with a tan. I'm listing that one too."

Logan sighed, leaning in the head in his hand. He wants his sister to leave. Yet, he wants her to stay.

"It doesn't work like that. Can we not joke about it?"

"I'm not joking. I'm helping." Honor tries to keep it light, "How did you pick last time?"

She wasn't helping.

"I used a magic eight ball."

"Gee, I wonder why it didn't work out."

He doesn't answer. He presses his fingers onto his eyeballs. The hits just kept on coming.

"Logan, are you crying?" Honor asks gently.

"No." He says, but his voice is moist.

"Shit. You know what, scratch that. Let's do brunch in a true Shira Huntzberger fashion. I've got all the ingredients for Gin Martinis at home."

**xx**

Phoebe camped in her little chair outside the guest room the Huntzberger siblings barricaded themselves into, holding tightly onto the box of snakes and ladders.

Phoebe was miffed Honor sent her away.

Josh knew Honor didn't want her to see Logan drunk.

"You know how sometimes you're sad, and only playing with Amelia makes you feel better?" Josh kneel to his second daughter level.

She nodded.

"So, mummy needs to play with Uncle Logan today. To make him feel better."

"What are they playing?" Phoebe tested her father.

"Tea party," Josh said. Phoebe didn't like to play tea party. Amelia was bossy.

"Because he'd sad?"

"Yes."

"Because Grampy yelled at him?"

"No baby, Grampy didn't yell at Logan." _This time. Yet._

The little girls looked confused. Grown-ups are weird.

"But why I can't play with him too? I'm like a mummy - just little. I'll let him win. Amelia can play too if she wants. I don't mind."

"Maybe later, I'm sure he'd like that."

"I'll tell Amelia to let him color Flounder however he likes. It doesn't have to be by the rules."

Josh smiled at her persistence. Phoebe is like her uncle in that sense. She'd argue and wear you down to submission.

His other daughter would have barged into the room long ago. Commending as Honor would. As Mitchum would.

"He likes the zoo. We can go to the zoo."

**xx**

Logan knows Honor called Ben. He also knows Ben told all his secrets. Chelsea. Rory.

It the only explanation of why Honor eventually let him drink straight Gin last night. She stroked his hair, listening to him drunkenly ramble about fire escapes, planetariums, boats, and airports.

Until he fell into numbing asleep.

**xx**

"That's a big box for just socks, Honor." Birthday. Christmas. She always gifts him with socks.

Gin hangovers are the worst. He is fairly sober and terribly embarrassed now. Sitting by Honor's kitchen counter hydrating himself under her watchful eye.

Honor's girls are at school. Baby Issac is with the nanny.

Phoebe was less than pleased about going to school. To say the least.

"Maybe it's just really big socks." Honor tries to joke.

"Seriously?"

"Originally, I was saving this present for a later date." Her hands restlessly stroke the white box wrapped in a bow, "I saw this when I was buying stuff for Issac. But I think I should give it to you now. This is so you."

A neatly folded space-themed baby quilt stare back at him once he removes the tissue paper carefully placed on top.

Logan snuffles. His sister is awesome.

He is incredibly sad to know using this item is postponed for who knows how long.

Because he's pulling the plug on the Manhattan project.

"I haven't seen you this excited in a long time. I'm so sorry. I know I haven't been supportive of this. I let my projections take over." Honor rambles to cover her brother's silence, "God, I'm so sorry, Logan."

He nods emotionally.

Logan's fingers trace the space-related features sewed on the soft fabric of the quilt.

"This is terrible timing. So, I'm hoping, maybe this will bring some good luck?" Honor rests her hands on top of his, "It's hand made."

"So was my baby." He jokes darkly.

Hope is not lost if her brother managed to keep his sense of humor.

"You'll be a great dad, Logan."

"Not anytime soon. No."

Honor squeezes his hands over the soft quilt. She doesn't know what to say.

"Can you… can you hold on to this for me?"

**~w~**

* * *

**_Casablanca, Morocco_**

Morocco has a lone star on its flag. China has four.

Rory Gilmore has endless stars in New England night sky. Stardust barrels in Seattle. All courtesy of Logan Huntzberger.

There are only two people in the whole world who evoke fighting spirit in Rory Gilmore.

Both their names start with L.


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: Hello to the awesome readership!  
I must say that I'm floored by the reviews and all the love from last installment. I can't thank you enough for the love you give. Reviews makes me happy in general but the last batch was just extremely heartfelt...  
So... you got extremely lucky. Again. Not only a LONG one, but a pretty BIG one.  
We reached a turning point in this story. Kinda. _

_This is for FlowerGirl._

* * *

**March 2013**

**_New York_**

"Are we replacing the nanny?"

"Theresa? Hell, no. She's a charm."

"So what's with the Mary Poppins line outside the door?" Josh wondered.

"I'm interviewing new prospects for Logan." Honor waved the surrogate folder.

"Did he ask you to do this?"

"Of course he hadn't asked. He's Logan." Honor frowned at Josh disapproving face, "He has to get back on the horse. It made him happy."

Josh looked skeptical. "Happy is not the word I'd use."

"Fine. Hopeful. Logan is wrong to toss all this effort away." Honor argued, "You didn't see him, Josh. He looked so defeated. That's not my brother. My brother doesn't quit. He got a soul. My brother goes and doubles down. He wants this so bad. It's breaking my heart."

Josh just stared at her. "How many of your friends has he paid a friendly visit to this time?"

"That's irrelevant." Honor tried to contain her dissatisfaction with her brother's other social calls.

"I think you should sit this one out. He doesn't want you to fix it. You should be happy he included you at all, and that's it."

"I haven't been in his corner about this; I was in the wrong." Honor smoothed the pages with her hand, "He has eight frozen embryos waiting to make him dad. And I'm going to find the woman to help him do it."

"All eight?"

"As many as he wants." Honor said determinedly, "I'm his sister; it's my job to help him be happy. Protect his interests. I'm fixing this. Now shoo, I have to interview them all before he gets back from the zoo."

"Honor."

"I know this isn't how things work in your family. But this is how things work in my family. Me and Logan, we stick together. Always. I betrayed that."

**xx**

"We got to see the tigers! They were awake this time. But I like giraffes better." Honor smiled at her second child, who continued to chatter excitedly of her visit to the zoo.

Logan was supposed to be back in Seattle by now, yet, a week passed, he's still around. Honor suspected he was avoiding Ben. And Colin. And Finn. Or something else entirely.

Phebe followed him around like a puppy lapping at his attention. She was milking his unexpected prolonged visit to the max. Ameilia was somewhat indifferent, as long as he colored within the lines.

He rarely approached baby Isacc.

"And we had ice cream with a lady."

"What lady?" Honor questioned her daughter. Logan's head stayed buried in the fridge for far too long.

Maybe that was good. Logan was active, interacting, going to work, flirting with women who weren't unattainable. Women who were not Chelsea. Women who will not run out on him.

She didn't bring it up, because Logan seemed to bounce back into a fantastic mood in his uncle mode.

"The lady who thought Logan was daddy. She kept asking him questions."

"Did you get her number?" Women who were interested in him, even if he had a kid hanging around was good! It was great! This had the potential to go somewhere.

"No," Logan said firmly, setting the jar of peanut butter and bread on the counter.

"Why not?"

"Tomorrow we're going to wall climbing! I'm going to wear a helmet and be careful." Honor nodded distractedly at a very excited Phebe. "Mommy, please don't make Amelia come with."

Logan ceremonially busied himself, making a sandwich.

"I swear I didn't use her as a wing-man." Logan is quick to say.

"Why didn't you get her number?"

"Because she has a kid, and I don't appreciate being prey."

"What's a prey?" Phebe interjected.

"Something that gets eaten," Logan explained half-heartedly. Phebe was his buffer once today. Maybe he'd luck out twice.

"Why would she eat you?" Logan chuckled at Phebe's follow up question.

"I'm yummy." He grinned at the way Honor looked ready to strangle him.

"Don't tell her stuff like that. It gets repeated." Honor warned him, "So she has a kid—big deal. You want a K-I-D. That's more on the same page other than…."

The grin disappeared from Logan's face.

"Sorry. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I don't want to be set up." Logan wiped the knife clean.

"I'm not setting you up."

"You are using your 'let me set you up' voice."

"I found another surrogate."

"No."

"I met her. She's nice. She came highly recommended. I talked to Dr. Lockheart. She said things could start as early as next week. You just have to say the word."

"God Honor. It's not like hiring a caterer. Butt out." He doesn't like this, he said he was pulling the plug, and he meant it, for now.

"You said Butt!" Phebe squealed. For a moment, he forgot they had little ears listening.

Honor gave her brother a side look.

"It's your kid. Your parenting."

"Huntzbergers don't quit. You get up, dust off, and you double down." Honor reasoned, "Logan, just meet her. No pressure. Just a meeting."

"Don't quote Dad."

"You were nearly there. It makes no sense to throw it all away. It'll be different this time."

"How?" He is doubtful but doesn't have the energy to argue with her.

"You'll have me in your corner."

**~w~**

* * *

"Natalie, what's next?" Logan asked, dropping the file on her desk. He didn't even need the useless file in the pointless meeting. Meeting after meeting. After meeting. The day dragged on.

And it looked the same as yesterday and the day before.

The Seattle office was more lively. He missed the action. Natalie was too professional, too aware he was Logan Huntzberger, and too scared of his father to pull out her beauty products in the middle of the day.

Mitchum Huntzberger had the habit of dropping by unannounced.

In Seattle, no one cared that he was Logan Huntzberger. He likes the rare anonymity it provides.

"Mr. Gilmore is waiting for you. I let him in your office."

Strange.

"Richard, sorry to keep you waiting. I didn't know this was scheduled." Logan entered the office sporting his socially appropriate tone, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

The Gilmore patriarch stood admiring the wall of his New York office with interest. He holds a small paper bag in his hand. No brand.

"It's perfectly fine. It was very last minute. Your secretary was very kind to fit me in your schedule. I was just appreciating your art."

It feels to Logan like the older man is having a moment.

The art on his wall is a blown-up picture of smartly dressed four men and two women jumping off a scaffolding holding black umbrellas.

He is one of these men, but a selected few know this. One of the rare events Logan Huntzberger was glad to be caught in front of a camera.

It's there because looking at it makes him feel less trapped.

Plus, it pisses his father off.

"Rory was always reluctant to take risks." The Gilmore patriarch seems reminiscing and reflective. "Lorelai, my daughter, is more in omnia paratus."

To hear the older man use the phrase, catch him by surprise.

"I was asked to deliver this personally. Not to your secretary." Richard hands him the bag in his hand.

She was sending her grandfather to make her excuses. Logan's face turned to stone.

Rory Gilmore is bold, if that what he thinks it is. He doubts it, the package too small.

He'll open it later.

"Have you ever been to Fez?"

"Can't say I have."

"Neither have I." Richard Gilmore admits, "I thought I did. Emily is convinced it was Istanbul. And if Emily is convinced - it must be true. Although Rory always wanted to go."

Logan gave up pretending to be uninterested, "What's in Fez anyway?"

"That's for her to find out." Richard said, "How do they say? She gotta to go there to come back."

She has nothing to come back to.

"Sometimes, my granddaughter is too busy staring down the camera and fine-tuning the focus; she misses out the big picture." Richard pulled on his jacket, "Well, that would be all. Better be off. Not keep you away from your job."

Logan politely escorted the older man out.

"Pleasure to talk to you, young man. Perhaps a round of golf next time."

Playing golf, in this world, is a ceremony of business arrangements and ties. Richard Gilmore and Logan have no business. They certainly have no ties.

Golf is a boring sport.

Logan only plays it, on occasion, because Colin likes any sport that you can smoke cigars along to. And Finn likes to drive the golf-cart drunk.

"I appreciate your visit." Logan was glad he had his upstanding upbringing and education to fall back on.

At the door, they shake hands in the manner associates shake.

"Rory is very apprehensive when it comes to grapefruits. She takes after her mother that way." He patted the young man's upper arms, winking, "Whipped cream makes them come running."

Natalie raised an eyebrow at him.

Logan retreated into his office quickly, bright red.

He stared at the small package. He couldn't decide if this counted as a belated birthday present. An apology? Just something to get his attention? A souvenir?

Curiosity wins him over. He tore the wrapping paper revealing it's content - A music box.

He winds it up, wondering what tune.

**~w~**

* * *

_**New England**_

Rory Gilmore's eyes searched the crowd at the arrival hall of Hartford International airport. She was hoping to spot a familiar face. The backpack was a heavyweight, but her legs move faster than a luggage trolley.

"Hey, Gilmore!"

Rory's face broke into an enormous grin at the sight of Lorelai Gilmore. Her arms stacked with shopping bags. The memory of a nearly seventeen years old girl returning from Washington washes all over her.

"Mom!" Rory calls happily. Her legs pick up speed. Trying to maneuver the backpack towering over her, and not to hit any of the other returning passengers. "Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me. So sorry, ma'am."

She stops to adjust her backpack straps. The bag is heavy.

Rory beamed at her very excited mother. Lorelai smile back, equally happy, and rush her nervous feet too. Each Gilmore girl and her set of rattling bags.

Her path is finally clear.

The camera hit Rory's side with every hurried stride. Her eyes start to brim with prickling tears. Their anticipated reunion is fast approaching.

The two Lorelai collide with force. The bags dropped down to the floor.

"I'm so glad to see you!"

"I'm glad to see you!" Lorelai retorts back, laughing.

"I'm never leaving home again!" Rory hugs her mom in a tight, squeezing a life-line hug.

"Oh, that's my emotionally stunned girl." Lorelai teases and squeezes back.

"He broke up with me. Quoting Casablanca." Rory tearful words quickly turn into sobs.

Lorelai bites her lip and stroke her daughter's hair, affectionately, "What a shit-head."

It seemed like she could have only one of her 'L's at a time.

"Why doesn't he want me?"

**~w~**

* * *

"The fish is delicious, Grandma."

"Does the fish meet your taste, Christopher?" Emily smiled contently at her granddaughter and directed the question to the man at the table. Her grandma was always extra nice to her dad.

"It's excellent."

"Great. I'm pleased." Emily "Oh, Rory, I forgot to tell you. I made sure Sherlyn ordered the grapefruits you liked for breakfast. I had to buy them imported. Did you know that grapefruit, all citrus, are out of season in the northern hemisphere?" Emily disclosed her grapefruit hunt.

"Awesome." Rory kept her eyes on her plate. A side look at her grandfather found him shaking his head sympathetically. All kinds of grapefruits were out of season.

"I always thought they are grown in California."

"Florida, mom. That's what the Tropicana label says." Lorelai interjected funnily. "What deception! Chris, let's sue."

"I think there are better things you could sue other than this. Lor."

Lorelai stuck her tongue at him. "Hey, I'm not in it for the greed. Rory, tell them about the new job!"

"What new job?" Her father asked, "When did that happen? You never said anything. Are you leaving Seattle? should I put a leash on the apartment?"

"Rory is going to watch movies made for a living! She's going to hang on movie sets and television studios, seeing it all come together and pick it apart with her camera! She will have her name mentioned in the credit rolls no one read. That's so cool." Lorelai moved her shoulder animatedly during her rant.

Richard Gilmore put his cutlery down quietly, listening, and intentionally looking at Rory.

"Did I get it right?" Lorelai questioned, "You don't expect me to watch the credit rolls now, right? Because I won't, unless there's an Easter egg hiding in there, or the soundtrack song is good. Right, Gigi?"

Her half-sister nodded. "True."

"You don't have to watch the credit rolls, mom. It's fine." Rory confirmed, "It's called a stills-unit photographer. I'm looking into it. It take some time to develop the connections and build the portfolio."

"Can Mommy come to hang on set with you? I'll be on my best behavior."

"What do they do with the pictures?" Emily asked.

"They use the pictures for promo shots. Billboards. Film publication like 'Empire.' CD cases. All that kind of stuff."

She accidentally ran into a film set in Casablanca, Rory Gilmore was charmed.

"Cool," Chris concluded. "So, should I place a lease on the Seattle apartment?"

"No. I'm going back to Seattle. There's a film scene in Seattle."

"What?" Lorelai was squinting her eyes, "I thought you said you could do it in New York. Why go back to that.."

"Rory will decide what's right for her." Richard's voice commented softly, "I'm sure New York is an option."

Rory reads the nuances written on his face.

She shakes her head. New York wasn't an option.

**~w~**

* * *

Lorelai and Emily are arguing about the wedding date. Rory doesn't even pretend to be interested. Her grandfather disappeared with Gigi into the study in search of some art book.

Rory is left with the presence of her dad, who is mixing the drinks on the cocktail cart. Rory is flipping through one of the bridal magazines abandoned by her grandmother. She's examining the pictures.

Being a wedding photographer feels like ancient history now.

"Your mom is so excited that you are home. And don't get me started about the job? That's great news, kid."

"Yes. Mom is certainly happy about the job."

"I'm happy to see my Gilmore Girls are being Gilmore Girls. Again." Chris took a seat beside her on the couch, "You two are a magical unit. You have each other. Outsides just disturb the peace. It was true when you were little, and I guess that is still true now."

Rory doesn't look at him. "I'm happy that you're happy."

"Rory, that's not what I'm trying to say."

"To be honest, Dad, there is not much you can say. So…"

"She told me about the guy and Morocco... I'm sorry, kiddo."

"Listen, Dad. I'm not happy that she told you. Now, a heart to heart isn't something you and I do. And I am perfectly fine with things remaining that way."

"I know I haven't been the best dad."

"That's an understatement."

Chris sighs, "When you were little, whenever I looked at you, I could always see your mom. Her eyes, her smile, her wits. Her focus. Lor always knew what she wanted. She never needed me to do it. And you were just like her. It always left me thinking that you didn't need me too."

"How could you think…" She can't help but get upset.

"That's not on you, in any sense. I was wrong. I think that's was my preventive response. It hurts enough to be blown off by one Gilmore Girl."

Rory closed the magazine, "I'm going to see if there's any dessert left. I don't want to hear it."

She can't get to the kitchen fast enough.

"I understand." It took her father a few moments, but he was in the kitchen now too, "That you don't approve. That it's hard for you to…"

"This isn't hard for me." Rory protests, "Some things just don't change. You two just don't work. Maybe not now. Maybe not in a month, maybe not in a year, but someday. But the result is always the same."

"Your mom and I found each other way too young and way too early in our lives. We had to grow into ourselves. And the universe decided we had to do it separately. Or that's how I'd like to believe."

Rory stabbed her cake with her fork.

"She has figured herself out; she had you to help her do it. And I had my shit to sort through. But we kept gravitating to each other. In part, thanks to you. And every encounter we had, it was like fine-tuning. Like a wrinkle in time. While the rest of the world, the rest of our life kept moving around us. And now, we're at the same place, or close enough."

Rory looked at him with a strange look in her eye.

"We try to meet in the middle."

He can't help but give a smile that makes her think her dad looks in love.

"Your mom, well, you know that already, she's magic. The way she makes people rally around her." His smile widens, "And she likes to do things her way. I think she needed to know for sure that I fit in the life she carefully crafted for herself. To see that I don't mess up the support system she had weaved. That includes you."

"You don't need my permission."

"I'd like your blessing, eventually." Chris admits, "But right now I'm focusing on making it better between you and me. For a long time, I never saw any me in you. I see it now. You have more of me than any of us like to admit."

"I'm not like you."

"I always feel the bravest when I'm with her. She's the string to my kite."

"And me?" She asks cautiously.

"You're the kid flying the kite." He looks so happy with himself, "Hey, I promise I'll try to do the dad thing better. How did I do so far?"

"You are improving. But you should work on your delivery."

"So, he's your Lorelai?"

Rory squishes the perfectly spread whipped cream between the cakes' layers.

"He's my other L." Her words hang so heavy on her heart.

**~w~**

* * *

**_Seattle_**

"Hey."

The empty cup hangs in her hand when she enters the new break room—Logan's back.

She was half relieved, half disappointed to discover he wasn't around on her first day back. The new offices were a shock. Ben was frosty. The new dynamic was flustering.

Another day to re-group and figure out what to say to him didn't hurt.

Yet, it turned out to be unproductive. Rory is still under-prepared to see him.

He looked great. New haircut. New white dress shirt with a soft pattern on it. There was something different about him.

A newfound calmness.

"Hi." He offers a court response.

"Did you get my message? I called Natalie." Rory caved in. She called Natalie and passed on her flight details. From Morocco to Hartford. Hartford to Seattle. Natalie is very polite.

"I did."

"Did you get my present?" Her grandfather confirmed the music box had been delivered.

"I did."

"And?" She's hopeful.

Did he get it? He was supposed to. The piano man plays the 'You belong to me' melody at the bar scene in the Tony Curtis' 1953 movie 'Forbidden.' A Casablanca reference. It plays in the opening titles too. It's the tune in the music box.

Logan knew movies. He was supposed to get it.

Logan and her, they had their Pyramid moment. She visited the market in a place that's pretty close to Old Algier. She flew the ocean in a silver plane. She showed him her China pictures…

"And?" he mimicked her tone.

Yeah, he is going to give her nothing to work with.

**Xx**

The next night, she catches him in the elevator going up to his apartment. She's on her way out to meet someone from the film photographers guild. An Important meeting.

It can wait. Rory sticks around for the ride up. This is her moment. She has nine floors to reach to him.

"How was New York?" she asks cautiously. She's at a loss of how to start a conversation with him.

He just shrugs.

"You are not going to say anything? At all?"

"It's a free country, which actually means I can speak to whoever I choose, wherever I choose, in any manner I chose. You're not on my list."

"Fine. It would have been easier if you would have just talked to me now, but I've got your schedule for the next week figured out. We can do it the other way if you want."

"The other way."

"Yes."

"You tracking me."

"Yes."

"Following my every move?"

"Yeah."

"I pick that way." He steps out of the elevator. Rory hot on his heels.

"Okay, but –"

He stops at his door.

"We can start right now if you want. I'm going in, changing my clothes and heading to the airport. You can hop on a plane too and never look back too. You're good at that. Today must be someone's birthday, somewhere."

"Where are you going?" It's not in his schedule.

"Away from you."

"When will you be back?"

"When I'm back."

The door slammed in her face. How insulting. She knocks on it persistently.

It reluctantly opens.

"I get that I'm not your favorite person in the world. But -"

"Go be somewhere else, Rory."

**~w~**

* * *

"What's all the secrecy? Arriving late, napping at your desk. You are not hooking up with that Jason jerk again?" Kate asked with disdain.

"No."

It's three days after Rory and Logan's elevator encounter.

He didn't go anywhere. The airport thing was a direct dig at her. She realizes that.

Catching up on her work projects was demanding. She dwindled and cut her breaks short to get Ben off her back. The increased uptake of caffeine and adrenaline makes her body act funny.

"Patel says the guys are convinced you're having an affair with the boss."

Rory is alarmed and plays dumb, "Me? That's stupid. I don't have time to date, anyone."

It is the truth. She's is too busy.

Trying to become a stills-unit photographer takes dedication. She needs to build a portfolio.

And establish a network.

She spends hours editing her Morocco film-set pictures. She reviewed her photo-archives to see if any of the old stuff can serve the purpose. She comes up with nearly nothing.

Some of her Logan images qualified - that strung her heart.

Every night she scans the wanted boards to see if anyone was looking. She sends out e-mails to offer her photography services, free of charge, to any movie or television set in Seattle that will have her. She hanged flyers in every drama school in town.

She steals moments at work to scout for film locations online. After work, she samples all the familiar scenes locations Seattle had to offer. She is hoping to score some flyby action.

There was just not enough time in the day to do all that and chase Logan.

Chasing Logan was the hardest. Logan was good at being evasive.

"Yeah, you and Ben." Nicole thought that was amusing, "All those lunches and the fact that you come and go whenever you want."

"I'm not having an affair with Ben," Rory said sharply.

Ben? Seriously? How ridiculous. Ever since she came back was less than friendly.

"No one suggested you were." Nicole sounded a little offended. "It's just gossip."

"Office romance is not everyone's cup of tea." Kate patted Rory's knee and rolled her eyes at Nicole teasingly, "Or should I say, Chai?"

Nicole and Patel were dating. That's what the whole desk thing was about.

Rory felt played like a pawn in a chess game.

"Did you know Ben made me and Patel sign a document stating that we will not involve Current in any legal actions if our relationship ends?"

"That doesn't sound like Ben. That sounds like Logan." Kate pointed out. "Ben doesn't deal with the legalities. The legal jargon confuses him."

"No, it's Ben." Nicole finished pilling her orange, "Honestly? I don't think Logan cares. He just asked to keep it out of the office."

**~w~**

* * *

Rory doesn't know what to say to him when she sees him in the elevator that morning. Logan never leaves for work this late.

So she braves the silence and busies herself counting to a hundred.

The weekend was exciting. Rory found a small production shooting a short film. She got home late last night because the night scene ran late. It was so cool. She liked the challenge of the dark light; it was her weakest skill.

It'll work well in the portfolio if anything is decent enough.

Then he speaks.

"I thought, okay, let's give this stupid experiment a go. Maybe it'll be worth it. But it's not. It's too much drama. And I'm the only one who's got something to lose."

"I'm too much drama?"

"You are a runaround, a lost and found, and that is not for me. I've been there, done that. Thank you very much."

"Well, if you can't take the drama, then you shouldn't even be in a relationship, which, by the way, you are not, so everything's good."

"Glad we're on the same page."

He doesn't look back when he exits the elevator.

**Xx**

Logan stops when he spots her sitting on his doorstep the same evening. His gym back strapped over his shoulder.

The camera lays besides two empty disposable coffee cups on the floor.

"I brought coffee. From a good place. But it took you so long to get here, and the smell was so good, and it was a shame to let it get cold- I drank it."

She stands, not sure what to do with her hands.

"Your selfish tendencies never cease to amaze me." He unlocks the door. "Bye, Rory."

"We need to talk."

"If I wanted to have a conversation with myself, I would have talked to the mirror."

"Logan."

"What's the point, Rory? You never listen."

The door slams in her face. Again.

**Xx**

The laundry room provides a perfect opportunity. She has him trapped.

He can't walk away if he's doing his laundry.

"I just don't understand. I did it all your way. Casual. Professional. No strings attached. No touching. I went with it; I didn't break the rules. I let you call all the shots. I even bought the hiking shoes you wanted even though I wanted the purple ones. I played battleships with you. You cheat, by the way. I have Ben all over my ass for some reason. Doesn't that count for something? Don't I get some credit about it?"

"Bravo." He keeps loading his laundry into the machine.

"And you just ended it. Out of the blue. One moment you're all romantic and wonderful next… and I… I don't even know what did I ever do to you? No one was ever this cruel to me."

It didn't hurt this bad when Joel dumped her. Or Dean. Twice. Or Dan the T.A. Or even Jess.

"Why do you think everything is always, always about you?" She can't place his tune when he sets his default washing program.

"I had to go. It had nothing to do with you. It's something I had to do for me. To figure out what I want to do, who I want to be. I'm really trying here, Logan. Just throw me a rope here. Tell me what the hell do you want?"

"You're not ready for what I want," Logan says decisively. That's the whole point.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do."

The water starts to fill the washing machine, and he just leaves her standing there.

**~w~**

* * *

Rory Gilmore was only five minutes late today.

She skipped her first coffee of the day to make sure she sends the first e-mail before ten. Hopefully, that would keep Ben sweet and unsuspecting.

Logan was indifferent. Logan was indifferent to everything concerning her lately. If he wasn't - he was very good at hiding it. To top it off, other to when they crossed paths, he seemed to be in a pretty damn good mood.

"Gilmore. My office. Now." Ben said in a calm, low voice and turned his back on her.

"He's gonna yell," Kate informed her.

"He's not gonna yell." Rory pretends to be confident, "Ben doesn't yell."

Ben closed the door and wiped his glass at the edges of his shirt.

"You're late. You've been late every day this week. If you are under the impression some exceptions are made for you, then you are badly mistaken. You are just like every other employee."

"I'll put in all the missing hours. I won't clock overtime."

"Good. Now get back to work."

Rory decided to take a chance.

"I made a mistake. I'm trying to rectify it, but nothing is working. He won't talk to me. I don't even know what did I do that made him flip on me."

"I wasn't aware talking is what the two of you do." Ben is sarcastic, and that hurts.

She'd take only getting physical with Logan any day. Anything over this. God, she even missed solving puzzles. Even that suddenly looked exciting.

"We talk."

"Yeah? What date is his birthday?"

Rory pressed her lips together, trying to remember if it ever came up. What's with the birthday?

"I rest my case."

"I'm trying to show him how I feel."

"And it sounds like he's trying to show you how he feels. And you just don't listen. As always."

"You're not going to help me." Rory summarized.

"No, I'm not going to help you. If it were up to me – you would be fired so fast for all the things you triggered. The only reason you're still here is the lawyers who tell me you have a legal right to sue for wrongful termination and sexual harassment. That's something I'm not willing to put him through. So count yourself lucky."

Looking at Ben was like looking at a barrel of a gun. Rory wasn't fond of this hostile version of Ben.

"Work whatever hours you want. Meet your deadlines. As long as you are productive - I don't care how and when the work gets done. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"And stay away from Logan."

That's less agreeable.

"You better. Because that won't be me coming after you, it'll be Mitchum Huntzberger." Ben's watchdog mode was scary, "Consider that a friendly warning. I prefer the Chelsea-Devil that I know."

"I'm not Chelsea."

"You are exactly like her, and you don't even know it." Ben throws at her, "Now, get back to work."

"But, Ben - "

"I'm proud of him. He did right to end it. It isn't about you. The faster you realize this - the better."

She wished he'd yell.

**~w~**

* * *

"And you know what the little munchkin tells me?" Kate sets the pseudo-question question as part of the story. "You have to say sorry to me, Mommy, because you hurt my feelings. My sweet boy. So clever."

"So, you gave him the candy."

"Obviously, I gave him the candy. How can I stay firm after that?"

"He totally manipulated you. You do realize that, right?" Rory pointed out to her friend.

"He is banging the doctor again!" Shiri sat down and started to set up her nail polish kit on Nicole's desk. "He is doing those long lunches again. And he always comes back showered."

Kate amusingly shook her head at the office manager.

Rory swallowed hard. _Was Logan back with Dawn?_ "Can we not talk about Logan's sex life?"

"What else is there to talk about?" Shiri looked at Rory in disbelieve. "This is prime, confirmed material. I'll bet you a million dollars that he got back together with his ex-wife a while back too. That explains why she helped with the new office decore."

_Was Logan back with Chelsea? No way. Right?_

"You just said he's screwing the doctor." Nicole pointed out the contradiction. "What shade of Pink do you recommend?"

"Pale Matte? I just saw him meeting her downstairs." Shiri shrugged, "Maybe he's rebounding."

"Save your million. Logan will never go back to his ex-wife. No chance in hell." Kate said.

"Why? It's the best explanation."

"I was here when the whole fiasco went down." Kate explained, "Getting back together with the woman you caught cheating on you? In your marital bed? On your birthday? You gotta be a saint."

"You're not serious!" Shiri gasped. "Seriously, on his birthday? How awful."

"It was horrible. He wanted to have babies with that woman."

"Poor guy." Nicole looked stunned.

Rory looked green. "When is Logan's birthday?"

"February 12th, Why?"

_Oh shit._

**~w~**

* * *

"I'm sorry."

She stands over his panting figure. She knows he jogs for 40 minutes every two mornings. It took nearly everything in her to gather up the courage to say sorry.

His face red from the effort, his hair is wet from the rain. It always rains in this stupid town. Logan looks down at his watch like he is documenting this event in his mind.

"What are you sorry for?" She isn't sure.

"All of it. Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I hurt your feelings. I didn't know it was your birthday. Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday? I would have never... I would have gone a different day."

His face sour. Gone a different day. Fantastic, he was the standing joke of the year. Every time she comes around, she just confirms that bending the rules was in vain.

"It doesn't change anything."

"It was just three weeks! It's not like I wasn't coming back!"

"Rory, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to talk to me. I want things to be like they were before."

"They can't. We are never going to work. We want different things."

"How do we want different things?" she throws her hands in the air in frustration.

"I want that." His hands gesture towards a man jogging nearby with a stroller, "I want to come home every day, to the same place, and have - that."

There he said it. Loud and clear.

He expects her to spook in one, two, three…. Instead, she just looks distracted.

She never listens.

Rory instinctively plans the shot. An object in motion. A triangle composition. Legs, wheels, head. The light isn't right. Her eyes catch a glimpse of his mouth moving.

"And you want to run around with your camera. Doing god knows what, god knows where." He despises the camera for so many reasons.

Logan Huntzberger is not interested in a Chelsea re-play. Honor is right. Shutting down the Manhattan project is a stupid move.

"I'm done."

"Wait, Logan – "

**xx**

"You were serious. About the baby." Her face is considerably pale standing on his doorstep, "I thought you were just winding me up. Doing that thing you do."

He knew they weren't having the same conversation back in December on the yacht. It took her three months to pull her head out of her ass.

"A missed opportunity." He doesn't look at her, "Nothing for you to ever worry about."

"It was just a scare, Logan. It was never real. Oh god. You were serious. Logan I…"

She never finishes the sentence because he shuts the door in her face. Again.

Logan doesn't come into work that day. Ben gives her the dirtiest look he can master.

**~w~**

* * *

Kate is the unsuspected victim of kidnapping when Rory drags her into the stairs two days later.

"Rory, what the hell?" The blue-haired woman is slightly frightened.

Rory starts to pace where the stairs turn into a flat platform. No one ever uses the stairs. It's the last place anyone would ever look for them if this unexpected break runs long.

"Do you remember telling me how you knew Ryan was the one? Because if you'd ask him to dance in the parking lot - he'd say yes? That he when takes your hand, you feel a little more brave, fearless?"

"What?" Kate tried to recall the conversation. "When did I tell you that?"

"After I broke up with Joel."

"Ah. That time." Kate said slowly, looking at her crazed looking friend, "You do realize I was quoting a Taylor Swift's song, right?"

"What? No, I wasn't." Rory is beyond triggered, "So that never happened? You never wanted to tango in a gas station?"

Kate just burst out laughing, "Rory – come on. Ryan doesn't dance."

The brunette looks at the verse of upset.

"Rory, is everything alright?"

"Am I selfish? You also said I'm selfish, that I only take and never give. Is it true? Does everyone thinks I only see me?"

"Just a little." Kate rubs her arm her sympathetically. "In a really charming, adorable way, though. It's okay you're still figuring stuff out. Joel just wasn't the one. Is this a delayed emotional response or something?"

"I found him." Rory voice is very quiet, "I found this guy. He's funny and exciting, when I'm with him the world seem to disappear, he makes me feel like everything is possible, and when he smiles - it makes me see stars."

"Sounds like a keeper. Who's he?" Kate asks, Rory only shakes her head.

"And he doesn't want me."

"Well, what does he wants then?"

_A baby._

**xx**

"I thought about it. I thought. And okay. Oh, this is crazy." She stands breathless at his door, "If this is what you want if this is what it takes. Then, I say okay. I say, let's do it."

Her hair is wild, her cheeks red from the burning wind. The camera hangs around her neck. Her blue eyes are wide with bewilderment and something else, maybe spank.

"Let's do what?" he's confused. He made it clear they are not going to be doing anything.

"Let's have a baby."

Honor said it'll be different this time.

Mitchum Huntzberger always said that life is about making the most of everything you're handed.

This is handed to him. Who is he to say no?

Logan's face remains expressionless, "Alright. I'll call my lawyer."

Not quite the reaction she expected.


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: Hi readership! It's here. I truly hope this __satisfies. Thank you for your patience. Note to self, never post a major cliff hanger before you completed the next part. This was especially hard to write, so I hope it did some justice. Sometimes the dialogue doesn't add up, so it takes time. I want as usual to thank you all for the reviews. My personal record. I'm glad and humbled to know you are so invested in the characters to give quality reviews. Even if it means Ben and Logan are certainly in the readership's doghouse... __To be honest, I was slightly rattled at the reaction for the previous chapter._

_Each time I wonder if I should point out stuff or clarify/justify character's logic or action. When posting comes, I always decides against it. You might want to refresh your memory on Chapter 3. __(*EDIT*: I meant chapter 4) _

* * *

**June 2006**

**_London_**

Logan liked to 'play pretend.' He was convinced faith, luck, a pandemic, zombie attack, or a higher power will interfere - and London wouldn't happen. Hope is a powerful tool of deception.

Chelsea said he was burying his head in the sand.

"London is temporary," He answered, "Have a drink."

Chelsea didn't know that when he was supposedly working on the final project for his business strategy class, he was literally building a real company. Logan liked to keep things separated. It's a reliable defense mechanism.

What Mitchum didn't know didn't hurt him. Him being Logan.

They didn't have a name for it yet, but the business plan was shaping together; it looked promising. Logan was damn excited. Ben was starting to believe it might work.

Not even Logan's charm could win over their potential investor. He met them once, twice, looked at the business plan, and decisively called their idea – Logan's baby project - 'un-baked.' A premature investment.

The plan fell through like a house of cards. Ben said whatever will be, will be. They'll try again.

Then, at graduation, the reality of the dynastic plan hit. Logan, fresh out of college, was shipped to London faster than he could say 'Eisenhower.'

It was the end of the world. Logan was furiously mad.

For the first time in his life, Logan didn't know where he and Chelsea are going. She changed her tune about following him to London, said she couldn't stand the rain. Instead, she kept talking about endless opportunities waiting for grab in the place where it never rains: California.

"Average rainfall in California is about 16 inches of rain a year." He argued back on the other side of the phone. He had looked it up.

Logan didn't understand. She could be an interior designer anywhere. She has a blank canvas apartment and executive office at her disposal to transform.

People in London always talked about the weather. Too. She would fit just fine.

"This isn't just about the weather, Logan."

"What's your next argument?"

Mitchum reduced Logan to a branch in the family tree. The bird meant to sing on it was the migrating kind. She didn't want what he had to offer.

**Xx**

Logan loved and hated London. It was a golden cage.

The moment Finn, Colin and Chelsea crushed the office, waving a bunch of festival tickets, he was out the door. Logan needed not to be asked twice to embark on a wild ride of freedom.

He ignored his father's calls until his phone died, never bothering to charge it.

Logan and Chelsea made out in the backseat the whole way to the Isle of Wright. They only broke for air once, quickly disappearing into a washroom, when they stopped for gas.

The rest is a flashes of moments. Finn and his heart were singing Cher in the backseat drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar. Colin's earplugs. Night sky stretching as far as he could see. Music. Moon. Sea. Cheap Booze. Jeans. Clumsy lovemaking in a tent.

Playing pretend with Chelsea was his favorite pass time. She tasted like freedom.

She made him feel like the one. The Stereophonic's song stuck in the car's CD player and Logan's mind. Colin complained the singer sings like a chain-sew.

It only made Finn turn the volume up, louder.

The next time Logan and Chelsea stopped for air, was when Finn and Colin decided to participate in the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival.

**Xx**

Laying naked with his girl on the kitchen tiles, in a sterile London apartment, both washed over with satisfaction still riding out the wonders of ecstasy. It was the end of their wild ride.

He doesn't know where Finn and Colin disappeared, and he doesn't care. He wants to be attached to her side forever.

"I want to fall in love like that every day. Over and over again." Chelsea says breathlessly. She supported herself on her elbow, her head prompt on her hand.

He can't help but grin.

"Let's do it, Logan."

Her blue eyes are shiny, filled with something he can't pinpoint, maybe spank.

"Let's do what?" he asks, confused. They just did it. He is too spent to move.

"Let's get married."

Mitchum Huntzberger always said that life is about making the most of everything you're handed. Just make sure you are bulletproof.

Now, this is handed to him – all her ever wanted: Freedom, Chelsea, a middle figure to his father.

Who is he to say no? He was being rescued.

Logan's face broke into the silly-est smile, "Alright. I'll call my lawyer."

"This is going to be so great! Give us a kiss!" She capped his face, her lips smacking his excitedly. Then she quickly pulled away, bouncing up happily in search of her phone, "I'm gonna call the real estate agent!"

**Xx**

Mitchum blew a fuse when his son finally called him from his new home in California. He never enjoyed sticking it to his father more.

"I hope you signed a prenup, Logan." He said before the call clicked off.

Logan didn't know then, that Chelsea will never be a branch on the Huntzberger's family tree. Family names came with obligations – no one knew it better than Logan. He didn't care when she changed her maiden name from Rosen to Rose.

Ben fainted when Logan showed him the seven zero's on Aaron Rosen's check.

A wedding gift. A father's gift.

Chelsea hasn't spoken to him for weeks once they registered the company in Seattle.

**~w~**

* * *

**April 2013**

**_Seattle_**

Colin was beginning to think the surrogacy idea- as insane as it was - was a better idea. Even consuming Logan's finest scotch couldn't convince him otherwise.

"Do you need a time machine?"

The blue-eyed woman reviewing the contract looked like she kept waiting for someone to pop up and shout: April Fool's day! Colin couldn't blame her - he wished it himself. Especially once Logan left him with the warning to 'be nice.'

Logan went over to Ben's. Colin could imagine what the tall man's reaction will be - A leaf out of Mitchum Huntzberger's book. Somehow, Colin knew Logan wouldn't dare to tell Ben, yet.

"Do you think IKEA makes them?" Her memorizing blue eyes snarked at the lawyer's face.

Colin looked amused. Logan was a sucker for blues eyes and a quick come back.

"It's a pretty standard custody agreement if you skip the whole child conception circumstances." He observed her facial expression, "No need to worry, Logan likes to debate; I'm sure he'll go the rounds with you if you have any reservations."

Rory Gilmore shoots him a look of pure disdain at his crudeness. She ran her hand through her hair.

This was disorienting.

"But he'll want it in writing because that's his insurance policy to not to get fucked over. It's was drilled down to him since birth; it came through from him once. He won't give that up. It's best for both of you."

Rory felt like she fell into the rabbit hole.

Colin stood up and returned with two glasses and an expensive-looking bottle and a can of Coca-Cola.

"The only thing he won't budge on is the Huntzberger name. So don't waste your breath. While it isn't the best name to be born to, it has certain perks."

He poured her a healthy dose.

"Macallan 25, Cherry oak. Drink up." She looked like she needed it.

"That's disgusting." She watched the lawyer mix her glass with the fuzzy liquid.

"Coca-Cola will dull the taste. I'm surprised he has it lying around. He's laying off the caffeine."

Rory knew why he had the soda. She was the one drinking it.

"Go on. Logan will be extra mad to know you didn't drink this very rare whiskey neat." Colin smiled, trying to ease the tension. Spinning the Amber liquor. "How well do you know Logan?"

Good question. Rory is starting to think that maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought.

One sip wouldn't hurt. "Is this a test?"

"No, just a question. I've reviewed that thing fourteen times. I get Logan's motivation. But, for the life of me, I just can't figure out what would make you want to sign this coo-coo contract."

The girl looked like she was second-guessing herself.

"You're Logan's friend."

"Look, I promise nothing you will say will leave the room—attorney-client confidentiality."

"You're Logan's lawyer."

"Trust me; As Logan's friend - nothing will make me happier than to keep information from him. He can taste his own medicine for once. Whether I choose to validate Logan's obscene legal documents– the jury is still out on that issue."

Colin indulged himself with another small sip of the aged whiskey. He studied her carefully.

"We can go over the legal jargon. I'll explain it. But I think you can guess my intuition."

"What kind of law do you practice?" She didn't trust him. Understandable.

"My father believes your profession should be what you do best. He is best at getting divorced. So, the family business and I, as his son and successor - practice family law."

"My dad's a lawyer too. I have no idea what kind of law he practices." Rory Gilmore plays with her drink, "We're not close. His dad was Strub Hayden."

"The judge." Colin assesses her, reflectively, "You'll fit brilliantly in our group of impaired folk with daddy's issues."

"Sounds like a fun group," Rory says sarcastically.

"We try." Colin summed leaning back in his chair; he might as well get to know the girl, "How was Morocco?"

"How do you know I was in Morocco?" She finds his serial questioning abnormal.

"Your name comes up in different conversations. I connect the dots." Colin was starting to see why Ben was worried, "Ben has legitimate reasons to get anxious when Logan, women, and Current mix. Our boy was pretty upset."

"One cannot get upset if one insists he doesn't want to date one, and yet decides to break up with one quoting Casablanca at the airport." Rory crossed her arms across her chest, "I didn't even know it was his birthday! He never breathed a word about it. Birthdays are usually a big deal; you'd imagine someone will say something."

"Obviously, Logan finds birthdays overwhelming. Don't be so hard on yourself; Logan likes to leave blanks to control the narrative. You weren't to know." Colin borderlines on dismissive, "He went movie-geek on you?"

The layer wore an obnoxiously amused expression on once again.

"Yes. AND Phil Collins." She says irritated. "What?"

Oh, Logan.

"He does that when he's nervous. You got under his skin." His face softens. "Look, Rory; I believe he was trying to do the right thing by all parties involved. Logan dug himself into a hole with you, and the only exit strategy he has is 'abort.' Let's leave this at that."

She goes to speak, but the Colin cuts her off.

"For what's it worth, I don't think he expected this to affect him as much as it did. He thought he had it figured it out, and he was under-prepared for it to backfire at him. You should take the rest up with him. That's not what I'm here for."

"Logan is not talking to me."

"It's what Logan does when he doesn't get his way. He shuts down, he thrashes about, lashes out, but in the end, he always bends. He'll come around."

Rory looked at him doubtfully. "Logan never bends."

"From what I hear from Ben, Logan bends quite a lot of rules for you. And if Logan is willing to risk clashing with Ben then…" The lawyer wiggled his head, thoughtfully, "It takes something extreme, or someone extraordinary to make Logan reconsider anything."

"Colin, can you stop talking in riddles?"

"What I'm trying to understand is- whether this is purely a business arrangement." Colin gestured at the contract papers calmly, "Or the wording are intentionally aloof, and Logan is trying to find a loophole out of him being your boss. Because the contract doesn't specify any engagement other than parenting purposes."

"You're the lawyer and his friend. You tell me." Rory Gilmore gulped a large amount of the hard liquor shakily.

"I wouldn't be asking if I knew. Parenting doesn't imply romantically involved."

Rory parched her lips. She noticed that too.

"Did Logan made you do this?" Colin asked, "I have to ask because this whole thing holds no water if he asked. We can't ignore the fact that he's your boss, and asking a subordinate to do something like this is an abuse of power."

"No." She says firmly.

"Did you ever discussed having a baby?" Colin question next, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Bizarrely, yes. Apparently. According to Logan." The way her voice is unsure tickles the attorney's bone. "I didn't think so at the time."

He can't help by be surprised.

As far as he knew, Logan wasn't looking for someone to share his baby. He was flying solo.

"Let me get this straight; something doesn't add up. Please, don't get me wrong, but I was under the impression it was purely randoms hooks up. Logan is usually very clear on the terms of engagement. If he wants something, he asks bluntly."

"Logan keeps changing the rules." Her frustration shows, "I don't understand how he can go so fast from zero to a hundred. He wanted to keep it casual. It didn't work for me, so I put a stop to it because let me tell you – your friend - is a real jerk. What difference does it make if we sleep together in Hartford or Seattle? He's still my boss in when we do it in New England."

Colin blinks at her silently. It looked like the girl needed to vent. Finn was so much better at this.

"When we hooked up again over Christmas, he picked up a fight about whether he can or can not be my baby daddy. I thought he was just argumentative because I said he couldn't." She rubs her temples and closed her eyes. "It was the worst timing ever."

Colin bit his lip. There was nothing in the world Logan hated more than people telling him he can't do something. Colin would bet three times his trust fund that this whole mess started because Ben, rightfully, warned Logan off.

"Was that a hypothetical argument?" Colin tried to swallow his shock at her speech. How many layers does this mess entail?

"Damn straight; it was hypothetical! He knew there was no baby. That's what started this whole conversation in the first place." Rory's temper strikes.

Logan hated missed opportunities too. Colin was confused, but let it go.

"But other than that, did you ever discuss it again? Did you make any plans to have one together? Did he, at any point, said anything to indicate he wanted to have a baby _with you_? did he ask you _directly_?"

"Well, no. Unless you count pointing out at a man jogging with a stroller during an argument about how we want different things - and saying he wanted 'that.'"

"With you?"

Rory Gilmore looked a little green.

"Logan didn't want to do anything with me until I…, and then he said he'd call his lawyer. Come in you."

Colin McCrea just realized another important thing.

Logan hasn't called him to bail him out. Logan called Colin to talk Rory out.

Coward.

"Logan is pretty keen on starting a family. Shockingly. For a while, I was surprised too. Although, based on his activities in New York, I was under the impression he intended to fly solo. Logan is usually a man with a plan. I guess something changed."

"I don't follow."

Colin wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but someone had to do it: He was going to rat Logan out.

"Has he ever told you what he does in New York?"

She shrugs, "He calls its Huntzberger obligations. I'm guessing it's something to do with the family business. And he told me he visits Congressman Rosen at the hospital. But all in all, Logan doesn't share with the class."

"To me, it sounds like he's talking to you more than you think." Colin tried to give her an assuring smile.

He was starting to see why Ben was wary. This girl had the potential to make Logan go down blazing. If she hadn't already. And she didn't even realize it.

Rory huffed in disagreement, reaching again for the mixed drink. "He should try to learn English then."

"Did he tell you anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Logan never mentioned his plastic-cup-New-York style baby plans?"

"What plastic-cup-New-York-style baby?" Rory's voice sounded strangely apathetic. Like she has misheard him.

Colin's face clammed up. She didn't know. Classic Logan.

"Logan was conceiving a baby with a surrogate. He put the whole Manhattan project on hold in February. When he lost the baby, he has eight frozen embryos on stand-by."

Rory Gilmore looks like someone just bashed her head with a pair of cymbals.

Colin McCrea wished he hadn't said anything at all, because two things happened that moment:

Rory Gilmore threw up the Macallan 25 all over his shoes.

He became the Finn to what Ben called Logan's second Chelsea.

**~w~**

* * *

"Feeling better?" Colin asks. He sits on the coffee table, shoe less, his tie loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone rubbing circles on his temples.

The last couple of hours were baffling. Poor girl, it was a lot to take in. At least she didn't cry. Colin was helpless when girls cry.

Rory nodded chewing on an energy bar he found in one of the cabinets.

Colin sighed and moved to her side on the couch. He felt as if the girl deserved more hindsight.

"Ben is so much better at explaining this than I am."

"Explaining what?"

"Explaining Logan." The lawyer, turning the contract over to find a blank page, "Give me that pen."

Next, he draws a cloud of five dots on the paper. Each dot then is given a name. Colin continues to connect the dots in a smooth pen's swift inaudibly. New York - New England – London – California – Seattle – and back to New York.

The five locations stare back at her from the paper. When connected in sequence, the dots makes a star shape.

Intriguing.

"Ben has this theory that Logan sets on keeping the different parts of his life separate. He says it's a defense mechanism. Now, it's all too Sci-Fi theory for my taste. But Ben knows Logan best after..." Colin scratches his head uncomfortably, never completing the sentence, "According to Ben, the ricochets are flying everywhere; because the worlds are starting to collide. And based on your venting rant from before - he might have a point."

A star.

"What do you mean?"

"You fit in Hartford." Colin colors the small triangle leg of New England. Then continues to blacken Seattle's leg. "You fit in what he built in Seattle. Your departure, no matter how unintentional, had unfortunate timing, and Logan is flash-backing. Finn thinks you shuffled the cards."

He circles California, but he leaves it unpainted and provides no explanation.

"The New York baby-drama followed. And now, you're willing to do this – make his Manhattan project come true."

The blue-eyed woman looked dazed when he colored the New York part as well, "Logan must be going fruit-loop. You are not seriously considering it, are you?"

She keeps silent—a fucking star. "What's London stands for?"

"I can't say." Colin says sincerely, "I don't know."

Both brunettes are silent for a moment.

"I'd never sign this if I were you. The idea of having a kid freaks me out in general. But, this is all backward." Colin admits.

Rory looked back at the paper. A star. The universe is trying to tell her something. It's a sign.

"That." She points at the star Colin draw, "That's a sign."

"What sign?" Logan's preppy friend looks at her concerned, his tone cautious.

"That this is it. This is what I'm supposed to do."

"You don't make a life-altering decision based on a sketch." Colin found himself scolding the girl.

He knew that stubborn glint in her eyes. He seen it so many times before, under different circumstances, on another set blue of eyes.

"I make my life-altering decisions based on pro-con lists."

Chelsea always had a quick comeback too. Not quite as balanced, but still.

Colin feels defeated, "Just make sure you have a good lawyer to take a look at this. Protect your interests."

**~w~**

* * *

"You're not sleeping in here," Ben said as Logan closed the door behind him mid-day and flopped down on the couch in his business partner's office.

"Just resting my eyes." Logan was already sprawled out with his arm over his eyes. "Twenty minutes, and I'm good as new."

"You have your own couch now," Ben said firmly.

"This one is more comfortable. It's broken in." Logan kicked off his shoes, revealing the Crocodiles on his socks. The more stressed out he is, the more childish the socks get.

Ben hummed skeptically.

"I can't sleep on that couch," Logan mumbled, annoyed, "She did that on purpose. So I wouldn't sleep in the office."

"How is Chelsea?" Ben tried to keep his voice flat, but resentment still crept in. He was not glad to have her back in the mix of things. The Chelsea effect drove Logan to make irrational decisions: Asking Mitchum to buy Current, for one.

"Happy and gay." Came Logan's short reply. "Don't you ever leave that chair?"

"Not all of us have ADHD," Ben replied calmly, "Are you talking again?"

"No, we're not talking. We don't talk."

Ben hummed in understanding. "Any other blue-eyed girls you aren't talking to?"

"Don't start," Logan warned.

"You want to feel sorry for yourself, don't you?"

Logan scowled at Ben. He was intentionally preventing him from falling asleep.

"Things didn't go exactly the way you wanted, and all you can think of it your feelings. One woman has hurt you, and you take revenge on the whole world. You're a coward."

"Casablanca, huh?" Logan said dryly, not slightly amused.

"I heard that's in fashion these days."

"Since when you are on 'team Rory'? I heard someone threatened her with Mitchum Huntzberger." Logan countered unhappily. "The man has bionic ability to hear his name whispered across the continent. Don't throw it around in vain."

"I'm in your corner here, Logan." Ben reminded him, "What I'm trying to do is prevent a repeat performance of a Chelsea catastrophe. Or worse. 3.7 million dollars are laying on the line. I can get us to deliver, but I need you on your A-game too. Preferably in Seattle. Not in New York. Not in London."

"I am at the top of my game!" Logan's crocodile covered feet now paced agitated, "And she's not Chelsea."

"As long as you remember that."

"As long as you do too!" Logan's Crocodile socks left Ben's office demonstratively, only to come back a second later to collect his shoes. "Socks without shoes is ridiculous."

**~w~**

* * *

"Hey." Rory Gilmore is standing at the other side of his door.

"Hi."

"Can I come in?" He lets her in the apartment.

He thought the contract would scare her off. Colin clammed up and didn't give any indication otherwise.

It was annoying.

The days passed, and he heard nothing from the brunette beauty. Logan didn't like to admit it, but he kind of missed having her larking around. If it had lasted a few more days, he would have sought her out himself.

"I'll do it." She announced her hands holding tightly on to the camera.

"I beg your pardon?" He asks, dumbfounds.

He knew legal agreements wasn't her intention when she showed up that very night. Having a baby wasn't on Rory's mind; it didn't take a genius to tell. Logan wasn't stupid, plus, he knew her well enough.

He doesn't know what his reaction would have been if she hadn't caught him in the moment the sleeping pills started to kick in. He'd like to believe he'd act differently. But he doubted it.

It was the words she said, and the way she said it.

"On one condition."

Rory figured what worked on her first L would surely work on her other L. The more she thought about it, they weren't that different her mom and Logan. If he wanted a business deal, then a business deal it is. This is a game of give-and-take. They were playing this by her rules this time.

As her grandfather said; She's Rory. What she tackles, she conquers.

"Since you want me reproductively involved in your life, I want to be actively involved in your life."

"Reproductively is not a word." Logan is an argumentative smart ass. Playing scrabble with him would be a nightmare. "What do you mean?"

"I want a weekly dinner." She hears Emily Gilmore speaking from her throat.

"What?"

"Monday nights. You and I will have dinner. And if you are in New York, then you owe me compensation dinner for every dinner you miss."

"What kind of dinner?" He questions, "Public dinner? Private dinner? A five-course dinner? Black-tie dinner? Grab-on-the-go dinner? Dinner-and-movie Dinner? Just trying to understand the scope of my commitment. If I happen to agree."

"It's dinner. You eat food." She doesn't appreciate his query of the specifics. She hadn't thought about it. She was glad he didn't ask what kind of compensation. She didn't have an answer to that one either.

She was winging it.

He looks like he is considering it, so she pushes her luck and throws another in the mix; "And – "

"You said one condition."

_So close._ Rory quickly recuperated, "It's a two-part condition. You let me take your picture. Any time, any place, anyway I want."

"No pictures."

"No pictures, no deal - no baby." She challenges him. "Take it or leave it. I'll e-mail you the version with my lawyer's alternation."

"Rory, wait. We should talk about this."

"I don't have time to talk now. I just wanted to let you know." She brushed him off. "I have an appointment I can't be late to."

**Xx**

A big enveloped with her name on it sits on her desk a few days later. Rory grabbed it and rushed to the washroom. Once locked inside the accessible stall, she stares at the letters of her name written in his penmanship.

Logan tends to use only capital letters.

She tears the top because he sealed it and slides the contract out of the white envelope. Logan used an orange marker to indicate the changes her attorney suggested. Her conditions highlighted in a blue marker pen.

Her dad referred her to a colleague to make the alternation. She said she was asking for a friend. Chris was so eager to please and thrilled of the opportunity to get back into her good books, he didn't question.

Logan's initials appear at the bottom of each page. His full name signed on the final page.

The post-it pasted beneath reads: SIGNED, SEALED, DELIVERED, I'M YOURS.

Stevie Wonder.

Was he nervous?

Rory felt her stomach churn. It was the first time she threw up in that stall; it wasn't the last.


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: __Glad you're still into this! Even more excited to know you're re-reading and stumbling on clues. __I've been sitting on this chapter for a while. __Some of my favorite interactions to date. _

_It's my birthday and we've got to move the plot along... So you get this LONG treat. Don't get used to it ;) _

_Welcome to New York._

_P.s. Someone asked about Rory's age- so Rory was born on 1986. In 2012 she's meant to be 26, when I do the math. But I'm better with words than math so...might have messed that up. Anyways her age is not really that important to the plot._

* * *

**May 2013**

**_Seattle_**

"Logan, who is Lorelai Gilmore?" Mitchum's voice thundered into the earpiece, making Logan's golf club fly out of his hands in mid-swing.

It was the last question he expected his father would open the call with.

Logan cringed as the inevitable crash. The office's glass wall shattered, sending glass everywhere. Shiri gawked at him, rattled. It's only luck she wasn't at her desk when the wall combusted.

In the other office, Ben jumped up, startled at the unexpected communion. 'What the fuck?' written all over his face.

Shreds of glass scattered on the carpet around the golf club. Shiri's heels stepped between the sparkling dust and picked up the stick.

He is never going to get the driver back.

"Logan? Are you there?" His father's voice questioned in his ear. He could imagine his dad moving paperwork around his desk, waiting for Logan to respond. Unaware of the reciprocation of his straightforward question.

"Yes." Logan turned his back on the disaster scene, rubbing his neck.

He'll deal with that later.

"The insurance guy called saying he keeps seeing multiple charges under that name on your health insurance."

Oh shit. When Logan put her name on the forms, he didn't think - in any way – that it goes through his father. The executive health insurance at HPG covered a lot more than the one they provided at current. He doubted Rory even looked at private insurance.

There was a long line of billings last month. Genetic kits, sperm counts, blood works, hormones prescriptions, treatment plan appointments, second opinions, and several tests with names so medical it involved the word vagina. Rory asked to do those alone, Logan made an exception and didn't argue.

They spent one whole Monday dinner arguing about the gender of the doctor instead. Logan won the agreement on male versus female doctors but lost the war.

The chosen doctor male was, according to Rory - hot.

"How does your Tuesday schedule looks like?" Logan eyed his schedule as he opened the browser to look up flights to New York. His mature bone was poking. "It's more of a face to face conversation."

One that Logan wasn't looking forwards to have. It's a discussion he'd prefer to push back as much as possible. He would have liked to present it as a done deal, not a transaction in the making.

"Okay. Tell Barbara-Ann to clear it. How long will you be staying?"

Ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann. Natalie will handle this. Logan could never concentrate beyond hello before the Beach Boy's song kicked in. He avoids talking to Mitchum's secretary.

"I won't." He could take the Monday's red-eye, swift through the office, blurt out his news, get chewed, and be back on the plane right in time for the doctor's appointment.

No available flights.

Logan rubbed his neck again. He'd have to see if he could move Monday dinner.

"Have you called your mother?" His father didn't probe. That was unnerving.

"She's on my list," Logan muttered.

"Logan," Mitchum warned lightly, "It's important for your mother that all family members attend my birthday party."

Logan felt the tingling discomfort in his spine when the call clicked off. It was almost like his father already knew.

**~w~**

* * *

"Topic number four: breastfeeding or bottle. Final conclusion – Logan's good with either." Rory made a note in the designated answer space and crossed out another topic off the list. She tore off one of the magazines in the doctor's office.

"No, I said, I think I'm not biologically able, so that an irrelevant question."

"Basically the same thing."

It wasn't. But whatever floats her boat.

Rory had color-coded folders sorted to different and issues: _Per-conception_, _Fertility treatments_, _Pregnancy_, _Labor_, _First year of life_, _Milestones_, _Life philosophy_, and his personal favorite: _Childhood illness_.

Obscene. The girl was thorough.

His head started to hurt each time she pulled them out. He thought dinning out would prevent her from extracting them – he was wrong.

"Okay next topic on the list."

"Can we not do this?"

"Do what?"

"Can we not do the check-list?" Logan rubbed his neck, "It's freakishly creepy. Can't we do it more organically?"

Each week another folder with a different name materialized. She was relentless. Logan didn't think they were enough colors in the world for this excessive labeling. When he dared questioned her method, he got a lecture about the utility of stickers.

She must have been a fun in college.

"Nothing about this is organic."

"Let's just eat dinner." He closed off and spun his fork in his spaghetti meal.

"Fine." She closed her notes with a huff.

"Fine."

**~w~**

* * *

**June 2013**

Rory Gilmore checked the time. Logan was taking longer than usual.

Rory still feels surreal every time she frequents the stylishly designed private practice. The waiting room looked like it came out of a lifestyle magazine: geometric pattern carpets, dark purple theme wall behind the reception desk. The rest of the design was semi-industrial, semi-natural. Coffee tables with thin metal legs and wooden tops. Comfortable waiting room chairs with wood legs and nice fabrics.

It smelled of effort not to look like a doctor's office, but like a family's living room—all those happy family pictures on the wall. No doctor's office she ever visited before looked this fancy. The clinic was designed to spell – success.

You get what you pay.

Rory assumed they paid a lot. She never asked. Logan never disclosed the full amount, as if he knew it would send her into a quivering jello mode.

They should be talking about money.

Rory hated the mention of money, and she blamed her mother for it. The photographer aimed her camera on the floor just for the heck of it playing with the focus setting. It was distracting.

"Can we switch?" Logan's shoes fell into the frame. She snaps the picture.

Logan never wants to sit on the yellow chairs.

Rory picked herself up and vacated the blue chair, moving to take a seat on the yellow one. They never talk about what Logan is doing in that side room. Honestly, she preferred not to think about it. She hoped he washed his hands after.

"Do you have any plans for the third weekend of June?" Logan asks semi-casually, the calendar app open on his phone. Rory notices it's crowded.

Rory stopped cleaning her camera lens and looked at him, trying to disguise her surprise. They never make plans apart to doctor appointments and their regular Monday nights in Seattle. Once, they grabbed coffee after the doctor's visit because Logan offered. Rory never says no to coffee.

They never plan ahead.

"I didn't plan that far." She asks nervously, "You take all those meetings?"

"I take the meetings I'm told to. So, there's a party in New York. My father's birthday party," his speech picks up speed, and he rubs his neck uneasily. He's been doing that a lot lately, "He was born in May, but the weather is better for festivities in June. He's like the queen."

"Does that make you a prince?" She can't help it. He was making her nervous.

Logan chuckles, obviously caught out of his comfort zone, "Would you believe it if I told you, I was asked that once before?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. You reek of money."

"Obviously, I have to be at this party; he's my father." He barely contains his eye roll. "It's like a big important thing that all members of the family must attend."

Rory cast him a side look. Is he inviting her to his father's birthday party?

"I'm not family." Rory realized it never occurred to her family ties would be involved.

They never discussed families. That part in the contract is pretty vague.

Logan gives her the most loaded look she'd ever seen from him. Her camera instinctively flashes, and she can tell he holds his displeasure. If it's because they're in public or the contract, she can never quite say.

"It's Friday night at the Plaza."

He first delivered it as a question, but Rory realizes it's not really up for discussion. She is expected to attend. Wow, they are making plans for a family event.

A major one.

"I work Fridays." It was the lamest excuse. Rory was already exploiting the _holding-your-boss's-best-friend-hostage_ card to the max to play hooky, knowing Ben would not dare to fire her.

Rory has always prided herself on her work ethic, but now, she relished in her _I don't give a fuck attitude_. Rory felt no guilt whatsoever to skip work if the opportunity of a movie production came along. It was doing wonders for her portfolio, and she was getting more and more calls to come on set. Some even offered to pay for her services.

But all in all, Rory didn't deliberately try to rub Ben wrong. And he stayed out of her way unless absolutely necessary. Unknowingly to her, she owed it to Logan.

"I'll talk to Ben."

Better him than her. So Logan was aware. She wondered if Ben knows, but daren't ask.

Yet, another thing they should have discussed.

"Natalie will take care of the tickets and everything. You can fly out after work on Thursday or Friday morning. I can ask to use the jet. Whatever you are more comfortable with, I suppose. It shouldn't be a problem." Logan is rambling, "I mean, she could take care of accommodation too, if you're more comfortable, or you can… stay with me."

The jet? Rory knew Logan was well off, but how rich actually was he? Her grandmother only toyed around with the idea of _sharing_ a plane.

Rory confidently feared Lorelai would throw a fit when finally finding out about the co-parenting agreement. And her father's oblivious assistance. However, family ties, with the richest of rich - this alone will is a blowout waiting to happen…

Rory swallowed hard.

Maybe her mother wouldn't mind. Lorelai was marrying Chris after all. Eventually. You can say a lot of things about Rory's father - poor wasn't one of them.

And he had a place in New York she could use.

"I can stay at my dad's place in Manhattan. I think he still has one." She says carefully.

Logan's expression is unreadable. Wait - did he want her to stay with him? Confusing man.

"What about you? When are you flying out?"

"I'll already be in New York that week."

"Waiting on the top of the Empire State Building?" She tried to ease the tension with a page off his book, a movie reference. _Sleepless in Seattle_ seemed to fit.

"No."

It didn't work.

"Why not?" She is surprised at his firm answer—the usual smirk he wears absent.

"She gets hit by a taxi and never arrives in _An Affair to Remember_." Logan bites his inner cheek.

Oh, that's a terrible reference, apparently.

The silence stretch. Rory doesn't know who is more relieved when someone calls their turn.

"That's us."

She blinks at him when he stands up and disappears inside the doctor's office.

**~W~**

* * *

"How is the breeding program progressing?" Colin is verging on leery.

"Don't call it that."

"Forgive me." Colin chewed on something on the other side of the phone. "Have you impregnated her yet?"

"What are you eating?" Logan deflected the line of question.

"Skittles." Logan hears Colin's mouth full, "Did you see the commercial with the newlywed couple? When he jerks skittles all over? It's on YouTube."

"Yes," Logan said, amused. "It's funny."

"Is it like that?"

"No, it's not like that." Logan rolled his eyes.

"It has a sequel when the girl gives birth to a huge, orange, round baby. When they cut the cord, and all the skittles come rushing out. But it turns out the baby is not Skittles'. It's Reese's. It's a love child."

"Point, Colin."

"No point, just making conversation. Finn would get it." Colin said on the other side of the phone, "Speaking of Finn.."

"I sent a gift. Finn sent pictures." Logan tries to squashes the subject.

"I heard. It's comic; apparently, you and Chelsea sent the same gift. Steph and I are driving down to Hartford next weekend. I know you're around, wanna come?"

"Can't. Busy and I have this thing in Seattle on Monday."

"Logan, one of your best friends had a baby. Get over yourself, put your jealousy aside for two hours, and go down to fawn over it and smoke a cigar. You know you want to. Bring Rory if you need someone to hold your hand. God knows she can use practice."

Stubborn silence followed.

"Is everything good with Rory?" Colin's voice questions. He doesn't beat around the bush, does he?

Logan pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't even know where to begin. It seems like every time they take a step forward; they retreated two back.

"Want my advice?" Colin offers, "Listen to Otis, Logan. Try a little tenderness."

**~w~**

* * *

_**New York**_

RORY GILMORE.

A man in a thin strips suit and a black blend cap holds a sign with her name in the domestic arrival hall. Rory sighed and dragged her carry-on behind her to meet the driver.

All this lavish disposable wealth left her unsettled when directed at her. It reminded her of her dad. Rory was more than happy to hail a taxi to her dad's place. Logan was adamant she'd at least use of the car service once she refused the jet.

Rory wasn't sure she liked this control freak, New York Logan.

As she gets closer, her eyes narrow suspiciously. She recognizes him, despite the cap.

"What's with the cap and suit combination, Huntzberger?"

"Worked for Ethan Hawke thought I'd give it a try. Could not abandon you to get ripped off by to the ruthless taxi drivers of New York. Could I?" The familiar smirks spread on his face, "Welcome to New York."

Liar. She wept when she watched _An Affair to Remember_ earlier this week.

"Your New York."

"Yeah. My New York." His smile softens, his eyes hold something unfamiliar "Come on, I believe I owe you one Monday dinner."

"It's Thursday. You owe me a ride with Robert DeNiro too."

"I know you can eat back to back dinner, but there are not enough Mondays in the calendar. So Thursday will have to do." Logan grabbed the carry on, "My dad knows Bob, I guess that can be arranged."

Rory hates when he does this thing where he takes the lead and expects her to follow.

"Wait, Logan," She adjusted her camera better at her side, rushing her steps, "Does your dad really knows Robert DeNiro? For real?"

"He knows everybody."

**Xx**

The Village is a globe of red bricks, white windshield windows, stairs framed by black railings: small shops, colorful banners, bicycles. Street-art. Hidden gems. Logan leads her confidently towards their dinner destination. Rory's camera is happy that Logan conned her into this setting. New York assaults Rory's senses.

Logan is patient with the camera as long as it's not aimed at him.

She'd imagined his New York world similar to Seattle. High-end penthouse looking over the skyline, but it wasn't. She never expected Greenwich Village. New York Logan lived in a five-story apartment building with iconic fire-escapes.

The kind Richard Gere climbs to _rescue_ Julia Roberts on Pretty Woman and _she rescues him right back_.

A quick google search indicated the housing prices were sky-rocketing. So maybe she shouldn't be so surprised—all this gentrification came at a cost.

"One of the finest culinary cities in the world, endless possibilities, unlimited choices, and you take me to eat a sandwich?" Rory pushed the menu away, disappointed, "Seriously, Pastrami? Salami? Can we please go somewhere else?"

"No."

"But I don't want to eat anything on this menu. And that's the whole point of dinner – eating."

"It's not about what you eat; it's where you eat." He counters calmly.

"No, the essence of food is a pretty big thing for a Gilmore, Logan. It's not part of the deal."

"The kind of the desired dinner was not specified in the contract." He responds, "The brisket is usually a good choice."

"Is that how you treat all your business partners? Is that how you conduct business with Ben?"

"Ben is much less picky about his dinner. He usually picked the half sandwich combos." Logan says reflectively, "Can I ask you something? Why dinner? Out of anything in the world you could have asked for, you wanted a weekly dinner. Why?"

"It's a Gilmore thing. My grandmother and mother started the Friday night dinner tradition when I was sixteen." Rory chewed her lip, deciding not to disclose more, "Needless to say, my grandmother never served sandwiches. It doesn't fall under the Emily Gilmore standard."

Rory found the dinner choice of the night underwhelming.

"You have no idea where we are, don't you?"

"It's a deli." She is completely clueless.

"It's not just a deli. It's Katz's Delicatessen. A New York City establishment of the highest order!" Logan looks at her as if she should know better.

Rory looks at him doubtfully. "It unappetizing."

"This is where Meg Ryan and Billie Crystal filmed the iconic scene of Harry met Sally. You know the one where she…" he gestures with his hand, trying to encourage her memory.

"Where she…? Where she what?" Rory she took a moment to take in the surrounding and recall the scene, the penny dropped: "Ah! Oh!"

"Yes…" a smug satisfaction slips onto his face, his eyes glinted with mischief, "Something along that line."

**~w~**

* * *

Friday night.

Rory Gilmore isn't sure what possessed her to buy these glittery shoes. The sale-women swore it would be the most comfortable shoe she'd ever wear in her life – but she lied. Rory needed three band-aids on each foot to fight the blister on her heel.

A girl got to do what a girl got to do when she stupidly left her shoes in Seattle. Yet she has to admit that while it feels on the tacky side for this particular event, they pair nicely with her dark blue dress.

"Ready?"

No. This event was a perplexing ending for a relatively good day of movie-spotting. New York's movie scene was bustling, and the internet knew to tell her where were the active filming locations.

Her feet hurt from wandering all day.

Logan was gone when she woke up. The note on the pillow said: Work. Maid comes at 11am.

"It's your night." Her hands smooth her dress nervously. Rory was determined not to feel phased by this event. Though Logan was not making it any easier, he withdrew deeper into himself.

"It's my mother's night. My idea of a proper good night doesn't include a black tie." He seemed edgy.

"I doubt your idea of a fun night includes any clothes at all." It just flew out of her mouth; it certainly wasn't intentional.

Her dirty quip makes him smile brightly at her.

"Aw, you know me so well. In that case, I can make exceptions for the tie." He adds a cheeky wink enjoying the shaded blush creeping into her cheeks.

Logan closes the distance and maneuvers her into the room with the gentlest touch on her elbow. "It's a pretty good turnout. We're just in time for people to notice I'm here, make the rounds and sneak out when my dad's back is turned."

"So who's here? Or rather, who's not here?" She tries to shake it off.

"Alright, see that guy right there?" He leans in, his hand moves to her back, fostering a smile as he talks, "He's a Rockefeller. He doesn't like to talk about the fact that he's a Rockefeller, but he wants you to know that he's a Rockefeller. So if you talk to him, make sure he knows you know, but don't say you know."

He slipped into his media mogul in the making mode so smoothly.

His speech is much faster than usual. He never says this many words in Seattle.

"What happens if I blow my cover?" Rory tries to focus on his words as their feet are falling into step. His hand ended up on at her waist—Rory's hand grips at the shoulder blade of his jacket.

"I have absolutely no idea. Duck and run?" Logan space their stance a little, he sends her a reassuring smile. "Just try to have fun. I'll buy you cheesecake at the end of the night."

"A real New-York style cheesecake." She stresses.

"Yes, a real New-York style cheesecake." He laughs.

"10 o'clock, my sister, Honor." He turns her the other way; his breath tickles her ear lobe. Rory's gaze falls on a slim build blonde wearing a black backless dress. The woman turns at that exact moment as if sensing her brother was speaking of her. "I'll introduce you later. More privately."

"Oh." Family.

"There's Colin. Finn could not make it tonight." He doesn't say why, but she senses an edge in his voice.

Rory is never more relieved to see the lawyer. His girlfriend is a bubbly blonde who tease Logan about the print on his socks. Colin and Steph are an entertaining pair, and it soon becomes clear she's stuck as their third wheel for the night.

"I have to go make the rounds," Logan announces grudgingly. Steph looks sympathetic; Colin looks like he couldn't care less. Logan squeezed Rory's elbow gently, "Be good, stay away from pumpkins, and don't lose your sparkly shoe at midnight."

She doesn't miss the fleeting look Logan cast at Colin.

"Why would I lose my shoe?" She wonders concerned and changes her tune at the appearance of his dimples.

"I don't know. It happened before." His smile throws her back to the night he lent her his socks. He leaves with a quick peck on her cheek, "I'm only a half a Kropog away."

Hey! That's her line!

"Isn't he cute?" Steph looks all romanced, "I'm gonna go score some more Champagne."

Colin wears his obnoxiously, amused expression again. "How you like New York so far, Cinderella?"

"I had dinner where Harry met Sally." She's starting to realize Colin was right. Logan opts for movie references when nervous.

"He's going all out on you, huh?" Colin lowered his voice, "This is the whole Huntzberger experience. Make sure you tell him when it gets too much. This star leg can get a little jarred."

**xx**

Colin kindly offered her the next dance after Steph manipulated him into the dance floor. Rory refused.

She already ruined the man's shoes once.

"Hugo's here, did you see him?" Logan materialized out of thin air deposited a glass of some sort of mock-cocktail in her hand to keep her appearance inline with the setting. "I told him to seek you out. Is Colin playing nice?"

The lawyer, especially, is going out of his way to make her feel accommodated.

She nods her head. How does he even know about Hugo? Another familiar face would be lovely.

It's one of the most boring birthday parties she ever attended. Logan kept being whisked away into schmoozing and talking stocks. He sporadically popped out of nowhere once in a while. Like he was checking her pulse.

Rory has been catching glimpses of him all night. New York Logan is blindingly charismatic.

"I have to talk that guy over there." Logan sucks air between his teeth, "So sorry about this. We are out of here before midnight. I promise."

Rory doesn't find Hugo, but she finds the dessert bar.

"I recommend the strawberry, fewer calories." Rory turns to a blonde woman around her age holding a champagne flute; she doesn't look familiar, "I'm Walker. Nice to meet you…"

"Rory." The cheesecake never looked farther way.

"Lovely," The girl tightly smiled, "Logan is our most eligible bachelor; everyone is trying to land him."

It sounded like a warning. Or a claim.

"Oh, I'm not trying to land him, I'm just using him for sex." Rory made a mental note to tell her mother she used Julia Robert's jibe to knock down a gossip girl. Lorelai would crown her queen for the day.

Logan will get a kick out of it, too, to be honest.

"Oh well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, doesn't it?"

Rory looked at the girl suspiciously. Not quite sure if she directs the dig at her, or Logan.

"Not it the tree has anything to say about it." A deep male voice boomed behind her. The girl beside her paled considerably.

"Mr. Huntzberger!" The speed the fake smile graced Walker's face was astonishing, "What a wonderful party! Shira has outdone herself this time! But she always put together brilliant events. Happy birthday!"

"Thank you. Compliments are due where compliments are due – you should seek out my wife and tell her." A sophisticated way to put someone in place and say get lost.

The blonde man wore a yellow tie. It clashes loudly with his navy blue suit. She can't help but remember that Logan hates yellow.

"Mitchum Huntzberger." He offered his hand, "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gilmore. How do you like my party?"

Mitchum Huntzbeger looks younger than sixty.

"It lacks a pinata."

The smirk on his face looks awfully familiar, "My boy always liked his women with a bit of sass."

Rory blushed; he certainly heard her part in the exchange with the catty blonde. And obviously, he knew who she was. Now he was discreetly studying her none the less.

Logan often wears the same expression when gauging where her head at.

"It's Rory. Sir." She smiled politely.

"Rory. It has a nice ring to it. You can always count on Logan to take things in their most literal way. You are in attendance but spared the introduction. Very clever. That boy, he never fails to bend the rules. Can I offer you a drink?"

Is this a test? She felt cornered. Logan has thrown something about later introductions, but since then, the earth has swallowed him.

"Oh, no, that's okay, I'm fine, I should…"

"Share a club soda with me." He said decisively, steering her away by almost invisible touch at her elbow, "I am glad we got the chance to talk tonight, in part because we still have work to do."

Logan seemed to inherit so many mannerisms.

"What work?" She just met the man.

"Well, we have to figure out what our boy's next step should be."

"Our boy?"

"Logan is talented. It's time for him to stop being a child and to start being a man. It's time for him to start focusing on his future. Now he's heading towards greater things in life, and it's because of you." Mitchum signals the bartender.

Her? What has she got to do with Logan's career path? Hell, she can't even figure out her career yet.

"My son and I have our differences, but I'm very fond of him, even if he likes to think otherwise. Logan's love life is his own business; I don't get involved. I just wanted to tell you that I see you as a real asset to Logan and our family."

An asset?

"With all due respect Mr. Huntz.."

"Mitchum, please, I insist. You are family now." She's family. The way he says it make Rory feel rubber stumped. He flashed her an all too familiar smile, "So tell me, how can I help?"

"What do you mean?" She looked wary at the tall high-ball filled with fizzy drink the bartender planted before her. Like it's poison.

"You are part of the team here, and of course, we're going to take care of you too. Logan tells me you're interested in photography. If you need me to place a call, pull a contact, don't hesitate. I know people who know people."

"That won't be necessary. Thank you." So that what nepotism felt like.

Was this what Ben meant when he said it'll be Mitchum Huntzberger coming after her? Her eyes searched the room desperately. Where the hell is Logan? Or Colin. Only a half a Kropog away is empty words.

"Well, the offer stands."

Rory sipped carefully for lack of better response.

"So, how do you like New York, Rory?" Mitchum swiftly changed the subject sensing her uneasiness.

"As a city?"

"As a place of permanent residence."

**~w~**

* * *

True to his world, before the clock stroke midnight Logan called a change of venue, and the kicked off the chase after New-York style cheesecake.

He finds it in a quiet bakery.

Rory scrapes the fruit sauce off the top of the cake.

"Why do you do that?" Logan looked at her, amused. His tie disappeared into his pocket the moment they left the event, "Don't you like fruit sauce?"

"Fruits should only come in pies," Rory grumbles an answer.

"Why didn't you ask them to put it on the side? Let's get you a new one." Logan starts to signal someone for assistance.

"It's fine." She insists. He acts like Christopher does when he's trying to make things better. Throw his weight around importantly. Rory hates that.

"It's not fine; we'll get you a new one." He starts to argue then stops, "What's wrong?"

Rory contemplated if she should share the evening's conversations with him, "I met your dad."

"I was hoping to conduct that introduction with more control of the situation. But I should have known better." Logan mashed the baked cheese with his fork, uneasiness creeping in his voice. "He has wanted to meet you for a while."

Mitchum wanted to meet her before Aaron Rosen.

"He did?" She's surprised to learn that. It seemed like Logan was quite keen to avoid running any introductions at all.

"So what did you think of him?" he leaned back in his seat, looking at her.

"Is that a trick question?" She asks.

"No. I remember you saying my father is an interesting man. Now, you've finally met him, spoke to him," he reasoned in a somewhat composed manner, "He never fails to leave an impression."

"He is straightforward. You are a lot alike."

"We are nothing alike." He says it so fast it makes her think that she might have stepped on a sore wound. "What did you talk about?"

"You. Your potential to greatness to be more precise."

"Ah, his favorite topic." Content is the farthest thing from his face. "What happened to books? Current events? The weather? Mutual acquaintance."

"You are our mutual acquaintance." She lower her eyes. She's mad.

"What did he say to you?" Logan's eyes harden, and he drawls out her name, "Rory."

"He called me an asset. And flaunted his connections for my disposal."

"An asset?" Logan repeats, unbothered by the rest.

"Yes. Like I'm your pony or something. Is your sister's husband is a great asset to her and the family?" Rory is offended, it's hard to miss. He is mad for her too.

Mitchum would have never dared to say that to Chelsea. They will definitely have words about that.

"Josh is the guy who holds my sister purse when she shops. He isn't producing the heir to the Huntzberger fortune. You are." The explanation comes out harsher than he intended, and he doesn't fight the urge to cover her hand.

Rory looks shell-shocked.

"He knows?" She tries to pull her hand out of his. He knew you were drinking club soda. Of course, he knows, you stupid girl.

"Yes, he knows." Logan confirms, rubbing his neck, "I've listed you on my health insurance. It's the cooperate insurance, it covers everything, so, unfortunately, I can't hide that from my father. The situation had to be discussed."

"All of it?" The discomfort at this new information is evident in Rory's voice. Her eyes hold enormous vulnerability. He understands somewhat; he too would have liked to keep it a lot more private.

"No." Logan moves his chair closer to her; his thumb rubs her hand. He has the decency to look sheepish. "Just the basics."

"The basics?" she waits for him to elaborate.

"Yes, the basics." He says as if she is mad to think more, "I didn't dwell on the specifics. It's none of his business. He knows his boundaries. My sister, though, has a very loose understanding of boundaries. You'll meet her tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" She's not sure if she wants to.

"I figured you'd have enough for one night. I know my family is a lot to take in." He sighs, "This is part of my New York. It comes with the territory of being part of my world. I wanted to spare some of it from you tonight. There are some certain expectations to follow when you're a Huntzberger… I'm still figuring how to navigate some of this myself."

Richard Gilmore's words resonated with him; Rory and he were too busy with fine-tuning the focus to see the big picture. That was fine in Seattle. In this world, in New York, what they are doing is more than he initially thought. It's bigger than just him and her.

And she is oblivious to a lot of the possible reciprocation on her life. So was he, until now.

"Huntzberger obligations." Her blues eyes focus on him.

It's a vague term, but it works for this moment.

"Yes, a lot comes with that name. But those are my obligations, not yours. They are not affiliated with you. You will never be bonded to them or the Huntzberger legacy. It isn't what you signed up for." His free thumb brushes the side of her cheek, "Did I tell you you look great tonight?"

Rory mentally took a step back. He can't just say stuff like that out of the blue.

"You can't charm your way out of this, Logan."

He will have to protect her. Protect them. He will have to keep them in Seattle as long as he possibly could.

"I'm not trying to. I dig the new sparkly shoes." A small teasing smile brings out his dimples, "Now, are you done with that cake? What do you say we'd have a proper good night?"

Maybe, just maybe, she's starting to like this New York version of Logan.

**xx**

Logan can't pin-point the exact moment things set in motion. He blames it on a New York state of mind that resulted in them playfully body ping-ponging along the small corridor that leads to his bedroom.

His hands rest on her hips, hers on his shoulders, their lips locked.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He backs away a little dazed. His hand runs down her arm lightly. He doesn't know why he is stalling she slept in his bed last night, but that was the innocent kind of sleeping.

"Oh yeah, I got home okay." She plays along, her hand crawling up his neck.

"So I see." His eyes focus on her swollen lips in anticipation.

"Thanks for the concern I appreciate it." She spins them, so he is backed against the wall. She captures his lips back and feels him pull her closer.

His mouth wanders up to her jaw up to her ear, "It wasn't all concern."

"Oh, really?" Her fingers fist his hair. He likes that, she remembers.

Now she is trapped between him and the wall, his hands are on her waist, "No, I don't believe I said proper goodnight to you this evening."

"No, you didn't." She agrees.

"Good night." He leans in for another kiss gets a little to lose in it when it lingers longer than the rest. His face remains to hover close when they part.

Oh, this is ridiculous.

"I thought you said proper goodnight." There's a smile in Rory's voice, and she pushes his his suits jacket off his shoulders. His embarrassment chuckled is cute.

She dives to kiss him again.

"Rory, are you sure?"

"Stop playing games, Logan. A wrinkle in time."

**xx**

The magic shimmered into the next morning. He can't get enough of kissing her.

In his lustful, dazzled state of mind, he pushes the click of the cracking door to the back of his mind. Set on devouring this fleeting wrinkle in time.

The bedroom door slammed shut.

Logan froze mid-kiss. Shit. He forgot to lock the door.

"Ay! You bite me!" Blue eyes blazed at him with annoyance.

"Mommy!" He hears the recognizable voice on the other side of the door, "Uncle Logan has a guest, and he didn't lock the door!"

Logan visibly cringes.

"Who was that?!" Her fingers fly to her lip. No blood.

"Phoebe." Logan moved faster than light to lock the door, frantically stumbling into his clothes, "We have about three minutes before she comes back. Get dressed."

"Phoebe?" Rory pulled the sheets closer to her chest.

"My niece. I forgot they were coming this early. You want to use the washroom first?" His heart thumping hard against his chest, "Please don't get weird about it if she happens to ask if you're a frog."

**~w~**

* * *

Honor Huntzberger scanned the room for forensic evidence. Everything was too tidy, apart from some dishes in the sink. Logan must have had the maid come in. There was no response when she entered and called out her brother's name. The apartment was quiet. Either he's out, or still sleeping - which is unusual for Logan.

Phoebe, unsolicited, dashed to find her uncle.

Honor would skin her brother if he forgot his promise to take Phoebe to the zoo. She was so looking forward to it she didn't even mind if Amelia tagged along.

Amelia was addicted to that stupid farm game on the smartphone Mitchum bought her. When Mitchum reeled in the pleasure of her oldest learning about business, Honor decided Amelia should spend some time with her uncle to balance it out.

"Mommy!" Phoebe's voice shrilled out, and her little feet skipped excitingly on the wooden floor, "Uncle Logan has a guest! and he didn't lock the door!"

Oh god, what has her daughter walked in on.

**xx**

"You're eating my cereal Pheebs?" Logan emerged from the bedroom moments later, dragging a flustered brunette girl on his heels with a firm grip on her wrist. She wore a pair of Logan's socks and looked ready to blot in her blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

Her brother's hair was messier than usual.

"Mummy said, I could." The blonde girl said with a mouth full of rice crispy. Her brown eyes directed at the new female presence. "Who are you? Are you a guest?"

"She's not a guest; she's his girlfriend," Amelia said knowingly next to her sister on the breakfast bar. Her eyes are glued to the smaller screen, blasting fruits on her phone.

Honor stifled a laugh. Her brother didn't seem so sure about it as her daughter was.

"No, she's not. She's a guest. Uncle Logan said adults could have guests when they are sleeping." Phoebe argued as knowingly, "It's called entertaining."

Honor chuckled. Oh, he had it coming. Logan looked tad uncomfortable. The woman next to him looked like she was ready to dig through the wood floor with a fork.

"Who wants coffee?" Honor suggested and turned to the coffee maker, leaving Logan to fence the misconceptions he single-handedly fed Phoebe. She waited two years for this day.

"Rory, this my sister Honor. Amelia and Pheebs."

"Sugar?" Honor asked.

"Rory doesn't take sugar." Logan's ignorance is commendable. Avoidance is the best strategy. Honor studied the girl named Rory. She remained silent. Logan was standing protectively close.

"I'm his favorite," Phoebe bared her teeth at the unexpected guest. She was announcing her territory.

"There are no favorites!" Honor interjected, sending a disapproving side glance to her brother.

"When do we go to the Zoo?" Phoebe looks at Logan peeved.

"I'm gonna get my camera ready for the day." Rory finally found her voice and a good enough excuse to flee from the cross-examination.

"Soon." Logan answered his eyes following the brunette.

"Can Rory not come?"

"No." Both Huntzberger siblings said at the same time.

Phoebe looked at him like he betrayed her.

**Xx**

"You're okay? We should probably talk about last night…" Logan finally gets the chance to step away from Phoebe.

His little niece kept a firm hold on his hand at all times, practically ignored Rory keeping the chatter going as she went out of her way to please him by agreeing to see bats exhibit.

Which was unusual because Phoebe was scared of the dark.

"It was a wrinkle in time. That one hates me." Rory is more concerned about other, much less pressing matters.

The five years old is engrossed watching the Monkey's feeding time with Amelia by her side. Yet, every few moments, Phoebe sneaked a glance their way.

"She doesn't hate you. She's a little miffed about her plans not going her way, but that's it." Logan said dismissively. "She gets that from her Huntzberger side."

"You don't say." Rory rolled her eyes, reminds her of someone, "I can leave, you know. You guys can spend time together. I can go to the MOMA or the central library. There's a bunch of sights I wanted to catch anyways…. There's tons of sight-seeing. I mean, come on, it's New York, there's something to do at every corner…"

Rory was cracking under the Huntzberger pressure. Logan laced his pinky finger with hers.

"Rory, she's five. She's not all mean girl on you. She's upset because Honor made Amelia come."

She sends him a doubtful look, "She's not upset about Amelia, Logan."

Fine. Logan could admit that Phoebe's competitive nature shone for miles.

"I might have to bribe her with ice cream; she'll get over it." He said in afterthought, "Let's hope for a boy. I don't have the patience to deal with all that female manipulation daily."

Rory gawked at him. He can't spring this on her like that.

**Xx**

Phoebe wanted ice cream and chips. Logan agrees to make her extra sweet. So now, they are sitting around a picnic table. Rory is by his side and the two girls across from them.

"Are you a princess?" The reigning president of the Logan Huntzberger fan club asked her directly.

"No," Rory bravely answered.

Logan shook his head. He's dying to see how this Huntzberger Shanghai plays out. Phoebe makes Rory nervous, which is amusing as hell. Amelia started playing nice once she figured out she could use Rory's skills for perfect Instagram pictures.

"How do you know?"

"Because I wasn't born a princess," Rory answered, obviously confident in her logical answer.

"That's not how you can tell. You have to take a test." Surprisingly, Amelia teamed with her little sister.

It floored Logan to the point he suspected they had conspired it together. If he thought the sisters bonding by the monkey's cage was suspicious – now he was sure of it.

"A test? What kind of test?" Rory hated tests.

"You have to kiss uncle Logan, and if you don't turn into a frog – then you are," Phoebe said seriously.

"What? Like right now?" Rory asks apprehensively.

Phoebe nods. Amelia's fingers drum in anticipation. Logan grins like the devil.

"On the lips. Like in the Little Mermaid." Amelia instructed. Phoebe's brown eyes are un-trusting.

"Comes on then." Logan encourages her with a smile.

If he's going to get a kiss out of it, so be it.

Rory has never been more grateful that he is an expert at keeping things as PG as possible. When she pulls back, a blush is coloring her all over. Logan squeezes her hand under the table briefly, trying to reassure her.

She got Huntzbergered by a five and seven years old.

"Umm... Did I pass?" Three sets of brown eyes study her carefully.

"Is he yummy?" Logan, all smiles, burst out laughing at Phoebe's urgent inquiry.

"I don't know yet. We'll see. Turning into a frog is not instant." Amelia has put the final nail in Rory's confidence coffin.

How Mitchum of her.

Rory quickly removed herself from the scene, "I'm going to use the washroom."

"Not nice," Logan warns the two girls once Rory is far enough. Phoebe moved to his side, effectively blocking Rory's future return.

"It was Phoebe's idea. She's jealous." Amelia told on her sister, reminding Logan the countless times Honor shamelessly ratted him out. "I think she's pretty."

"Am not!" Phoebe protested unconvincingly.

"Can you keep a secret?" Logan hash whispers. "But you can't tell mommy."

Both girls nod eagerly;

"She is a princess. Little birds help her get dressed in the morning."

"No way! Really?" Phoebe exclaimed, her eyes getting big like stars. Amelia lost interest in the conversation and went back to her phone; the seven years old didn't fall for it anymore.

"She has glass slippers, and sometimes, she wears a tiara too." Logan winked, holding his laugh and ruffled the smaller blonde hair affection, "But you're still my favorite. Pheebs."

Amelia's head shoots up, "Mom said there are no favorites!"

"Rory can't come to the zoo next time." Phoebe announced, "Even if she is a princess."

"Sure thing." Logan agrees, "Amelia, watch your sister for a minute. Don't go anywhere until I get back - both of you."

**xx**

"They are worse than your father. And You – you are a jerk playing along." Rory's eyes are all fury when he waits her out near the ladies.

"Oh come on, it was a little funny." Logan offers her an easy smile.

Rory shoots him a look.

"To you, maybe." Her eyes still blaze with frustration, she runs her hand in her hair, "This is too much."

"It was just a kiss. We did more than kiss last night." He reasons, "They were just messing with you. You really shouldn't get so worked up about this. I told you not to get weird about the frog thing. Amelia thinks you're pretty."

She's not supposed to get this upset about this little childish trick.

"What?"

"I got my period." She blurts at him.

Logan's lips shape the 'O' sound. This is not a desirable outcome.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: I've been blessed with some awesome, top-notch reviews and readers! Glad you liked it and thrilled are still with me. __Just a quick note to clear something - of course Mitchum knows who Rory is. He's Mitchum Huntzberger trust him to vet her. But he wanted his son to tell him.__  
_

_Okay, so if you haven't been re-reading, you might want to refresh your memory on chap. 2, 5, 13. It's time to start closing threads. This chapter is packed with musical references. Some are very carefully hidden. I might post the list it later in a review entry for his chapter.  
_

* * *

**September 2013**

_**Seattle**_

His phone rings just as his muddy hiking boots enter the apartment late Sunday evening. Logan dropped his camping gear on the floor next to the door.

Colin.

"Ah! He answers. I've been trying to catch you all weekend. What's up?"

Logan stepped out of his shoes and flopped down on the couch.

"Nothing much," Logan knew Colin was fishing for particular information and opted for the diplomatic answer. It wasn't untrue, anyway. "Gone camping with Ben. I just got back."

He had to get out of the city.

"How's Rory?"

"Not pregnant."

It's been months, and nothing was happening. Logan tried to hide his disappointment better since his less than stellar reaction at the Zoo. Before Rory, when a cycle failed, saying 'Okay, next' was a piece of cake.

Rory, he suspected, was extremely relieved when the next cycles failed.

"That's all you have to say?"

"Pretty much."

Apart to Monday dinners with color-coded files, quizzes, and medical jargon communication.

The relative comfortableness they seemed to achieve in New York vaporized in a heartbeat. They got lost in translation. He tried to broach the subject and neutralize it. Rory shot him down with a 'wrinkle in time'.

It cuts like the knife. He offered her an unbiased glimpse of his world, and she rejected it.

He didn't want to tell Colin. Colin will gloat. Ben did, and Colin was much better at gloating than Ben.

"New York spooked her, didn't it?"

Logan rubbed his face tiredly. It would have better if she would just freeze him out like Chelsea used to do. But no, Rory accommodated him from a safe distance - Keeping it strictly business.

Each time and she did it every time, she said they were business partners irked him.

Logan was more concerned about fixing Seattle first. New York and its implications could wait. He knew he fucked up in New York. He was under-equipped to contain the negative news, her emotions, and the Huntzberger's power-play at the same time.

"Are you coming to see Finn anytime soon?" His friend continued to ask cautiously, "Please give me an answer longer than two words at a time."

"Stop pestering me, Colin."

Finn's happy ever after was a too bitter pill to swallow.

"Four words, that makes a sentence. We're making progress."

**~w~**

* * *

Seattle was beautiful in Autumn.

September signaled the end of a successful summer with a selection of short film projects coming Rory's way - thanks to Chip. She met the producer upon returning from New York's baptism of fire. He took her under his wing professionally, giving her the first refusal for projects he was involved with.

Projects she got paid for.

Rory liked hanging behind the scenes. She loves the ability to look at a scene out of context.

Explore it as a stand-alone.

On Friday, Chip asked her out. They went out for late-night drinks the very same day.

Chip was a great conversationalist. He was funny. They shared interests. He told her stories about movie sets he worked on, crazy directors, actors with diva attitude, and life in general. She told him about hers.

So different to Mondays with Logan. With Logan, talking about work was first - off-limits; Second – Logan kept the cards close to his chest. Only answering when asked. And even then, more often than not, he answered questions with a question, or a smart come back. Third – he always alluded his true intentions peppering her with film trivia and riddles.

Mondays left Rory dazzled.

The next night, Saturday, Chip suggested a stand-up comedy club he wanted to check for a while. It was awesome fun.

Monday's dinners weren't fun. They were excruciating, that was partly her fault.

On Sunday, Rory spontaneously met up with Chip for casual drinks again. They flirted heavily; Chip didn't shy away from PDAs. He was at ease with the camera, making goody faces. It was easy.

Mondays sometimes felt like the 'no touching' rules in Seattle were re-instated.

**x**

Now, it was Monday afternoon, and Rory was confused. Last night ended with a good night kiss at her door, and Chip said they'll be in touch. What did 'we'll be in touch' mean?

"We need a guy's opinion." Nicole determined after listening intently.

They have been conspiring about the various possibilities of what made him backtrack when things were going so well.

Shiri voiced her agreement and fanned Nicole's nails dry, "This color looks gorgeous on you, Nic. Rory's best color is called Prostitute Red."

"I'll come back another time." Logan involuntary cringed and stopped and in his tracks at the door of the break-room

"Logan. Just in time." A smile speeded on Nicole's face. Shiri's wore a matching smile.

Logan was trapped.

Rory meekly forced a smile. Out of all the men in the world.

"Ladies," He quickly recovered, his eyes rapidly scanned the beauty shop laid out on the table. "Should I remind you this is your workplace and not a nail-salon. Pack it up. Or I'm starting to charge you rent."

Now that she met his father, Rory gets where he get that attitude from.

"They're not paying customers; it can't be considered a business." Shiri started brushing Rory's fingers with the red color. "It's a non-profit."

"I can fire you; you do know that, right?" he grumbled, going on with his business of making himself a cup of tea. Rory noticed for a while he switches to tea or decaf after lunch.

"On what cause?" Shiri sparred back.

"Slacking. Intrusion. Sass. Hijacking my golf club." Logan was sore about the golf club. He was still looking for it four months later.

"No one around here gets fired for slacking." Shiri tongue clicked. Rory lowered her eyes when Logan's fleetingly met hers. She needs to stop playing hooky.

"We need a guy's perspective on something." Nicole cut the banter short.

"You don't want Logan's. Let's ask someone else; let's ask Keith or Gabe." Rory protested. She didn't plan to ask either Keith or Gabe, but she especially didn't want Logan to know she went on a date.

Three dates.

Not that she owed him anything. She could date whoever she wanted. Their lives are separated aside from their joint venture. Rory took Colin's advice seriously when he told her to protect her interests within the contract. Hence the clause stating she can do whatever she wanted, with whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted.

Unless it was Monday, today was a Monday. God, she's having dinner with him tonight.

"Why not?" Nicole questioned her objection, "Logan is a single, young, hot-blooded, relatively handsome male."

"Relatively handsome?" He turned around with a freshly prepared cup of tea, feigning offense.

"Those guys are geeks. Logan dates around. Which makes him a perfect candidate." Shiri offered additional arguments.

Logan doesn't date. Rory thought bitterly.

Logan has bed-guests as his five years old niece precisely pointed out.

"He's divorced." Rory pointed out. Her fingers were hostage under Shiri's mercy and wet, prostitute red nail-polish. Sadly, she couldn't physically remove herself from this conversation.

"Hence, experienced." Nicole offered a dismissive wave.

"His ex-wife is a lesbian. Shows you the rate of his success." Logan raised his eyebrow at her.

"She's bi, to be specific, although most of the LGBT community prefers not to be defined or boxed. Or so I'm told." Logan taunted. "You know, most people wait until I leave the room to rehash the sordid details of my marriage."

"I'm not most people." She shoots at him.

"We need a guy's opinion." Nicole started again. "I went on a date with this guy."

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Logan asked, confused, "Who is like sitting two doors down."

"Completely irrelevant. I went on a date with a man who is not my boyfriend."

"Yeah?" Logan asked unconvinced, "What's his name? Where did you meet him?"

"Chip." Nicole gave Rory a careful side look, "At the gym."

"Chip. At the gym." Logan repeated skeptically. "Was he with his good friend Dale?"

Rory rolled her eyes at his cartoon reference. Chippendales. Clever.

"Yes. It doesn't matter where. The date was great, but at the end, after we kissed, he said he'd call me."

"But it's not Patel."

"No, Logan, it's not Patel. How can it be Patel? Pay attention."

"Okay, so?" Logan shrugged, "What's the problem? Sounds okay. Either wait 'till he calls, or call him yourself."

"She can't call him," Shiri said knowingly. "The guy is supposed to call."

"Says who? Dear Deirdre?" He asks, casually entertained, "Did he say when he is going to call? Did he say 'I'll call you on Tuesday?' or was it more 'a keep in touch' vibe."

The three girls shared a thoughtful look.

"No. Just, I'll call you."

"Was it the first date?"

"Third."

"Third date? Third out of consecutive dates?" Logan fished for more details, "Where did he take you?"

"Just a bar. Casual." Nicole played it off nicely so far. "Yes. Friday, Saturday, Sunday."

"Did you wear heels or flats?"

"Heels."

"Sparkly heels?"

"What does it matter?" Rory interjected. He figured it out.

"Was the kiss good?" He ignores her continuing to conduct his indirect inquisition.

"Yes. It was good." Shiri jumped in instead of Nicole.

"Were you on this date too? With tongue?" The question clicked harshly on his.

"Logan, come on." Nicole cried impatiently. "What's with the twenty-one questions?"

"You want my help or not? It's an important detail."

"Yes," Nicole said, exasperated, "With tongue."

"On the third date? And you didn't ask him in?" He inquires.

"No. He didn't expect to be asked in." Nicole peered at Rory as discreetly as she could.

Logan took a deliberated sip from his beverage. He could hear the penny drops.

"Yeah," He paused for effect, "You're a tease. He decided it's not worth the hassle anymore if he's not getting any. I'm surprised he held on this long, must have wanted in your pants pretty bad. I wouldn't wait by the phone - if I were you."

Shiri held the nail-brush in the air looking at her boss astonished. Nicole wore an equally stunned expression. Neither thought he'd put it as bluntly as that.

"Always happy to help. I'm only a Kropog away." He threw the Yale phrase over his shoulder, stepping out of the break room towards Ben's office. "Get back to work!"

Rory bit her lip agitated, her eyes blazing at his retreating back.

"What's a Kropog?" Nicole wondered.

"It's a measurement unit used at Yale," Rory responded in a clipped tone. He used it intentionally.

"The two of you are doing it again?" Shiri asked Rory once his back was sufficiently far away. Nicole eyed her with interest.

"Do what?" Rory asked defensively. "Just give him his golf stick back already."

"The I-want-to-fuck-you banter."

**~w~**

* * *

"You have to come out with us tonight. Ryan said he'd watch the kids. I think he just wants to watch the game without interruptions, but who am I to deny a night of freedom?" Kate re-applied her lipstick in front of the mirror in the washroom. "Never have kids. They suck out the fun out of your life."

Rory soaped her hands again after washing them.

"Yesterday, you said they are the best thing that ever happened to you."

"That was yesterday. You can't hold me responsible today for what I said yesterday." Kate popped her lips and turned to the brunette, "Please, please say you'll come, I really need a 'girls just wanna have fun' night! Just us girls, drinking margaritas, flirting shamelessly. Dancing! God, I miss dancing."

Nicole and Shiri called Rory out at lunch for blowing off the regular Friday nights of fun for some photography action. After the Chip incident and Logan being a jerk in the break room, and in general, Rory could use a girls' night.

Maybe Logan's ex-wife was right about switching teams.

"Alright."

"Yeay!" Kate clapped happily, "I'm going to find you the perfect guy who'd make you forget all about that star boy you are so hanged up about."

Rory worried her lip. She was not hanged up about him.

**xx**

"Are you going to let him take you home?"

His voice rasps next to her. Rory's blue eyes meet his brown in the long mirror hanging behind the bar. Joel once told her most bars installs them so the bartender could see the bar even with his back turned.

What was he doing here? His Mitchum call always ran late on Fridays.

Girls night didn't end up a pure girls night once the venue chosen for the party was one of the regular places. Margarita at half price, who could say no? Soon after, Patel stopped by, followed by some other office peeps.

Kate stepped out to call Ryan and check that the house wasn't on fire. So much for not 'acting like a mom' night. Rory just finished telling a random guy she was only after a good time with her girlfriend.

"You're not jumping on the wagon; someone better do it."

Logan squeezed himself between the two bar stools leaning his elbows on the bar facing her.

"Don't put words in my mouth. It's you who pulled the 'wrinkle in time' card." He lowered his voice, "You shouldn't be drinking."

"You set the rules for Seattle." She narrows her eyes at him, "Dr. Pence said I'm allowed to enjoy a glass of wine or beer in moderate amounts, Dad."

"Looks like you're planning on more than one." Logan eyed the second pink margarita next to her.

"It's Kate's. Did you come here to pick a fight?"

"No. But if you want to pick one with me, then I suggest we take this somewhere else, because I had enough drama for one week." He cocks his head at her alluding to their explosive Monday dinner.

Rory huffed, "But of course."

Monday night's dinner officially exploded when the subject of money came up.

"I need to be in New York earlier than expected, but I'll be back in time for the doctor."

To wait outside the exam room, because Rory upgraded the partition to this, or not come at all. Logan hated to be excluded. But he bites his tongue respectfully.

"Notification by e-mail or text would have been sufficient." Logan in New York meant no Monday dinner. Good, she needed a break from him.

"Rory – "

"Does Ben get a personal notification when you take off unexpectedly?"

"Since you insist on repeatedly making this stupid comparison - Yes. Everything that applies to Ben applies to you. Ben and I are friends first, business partners later."

"Good for you. We were never friends, Logan."

He took a stilling breath, "I'll see you Wednesday."

**~w~**

* * *

**_New York_**

Logan frowned at his caller ID. His phone was blasting with calls for the last hour from the same unrecognized number. He kept sending the caller into voice mail. The small icon in the top corner kept reminding him of at least one left there.

Mitchum sent his son an impatient look. The phone rang again. Same number. A New York number. Logan once again denied the call.

"Would you take that already?" The older man scolded when the phone vibrated again. His loud voice stalled the financial analyst reviewing the west-coast division performance.

Mitchum has especially requested this meeting, after he and Logan hushed out the particulars that would enable Logan to stay an extended period in Seattle. Dealing with his father wasn't this easy since London.

"It's not important." Logan rejected the call again. "Please continue."

"It's the 7th time it rang. Someone must think it's important."

Finn's name flashed on the screen for a minute. Usually, Finn and Colin hang up after just enough time for the call to register on his phone log. This time Finn stays on the line. Untypical.

"It's just Finn now," Logan checked the caller, "I'll call him back."

"Set it to airplane mode," Mitchum Huntzberger instructed despite deeming his son's response satisfying.

The phone buzzed again before Logan could hit the airplane icon.

Now Colin. Odd. Colin never calls on business hours, unless he is billing. Plus, Colin had back to back sessions in court all day; that's why they were meeting for drinks before his red-eye to Seattle.

Logan has to masturbate into a plastic cup by noon.

"Dad, I have to take this."

"You just said it wasn't important."

"It's Colin."

Mitchum shook his head. Less than pleased at how easily his son and heir still beckoned to his friends' shenanigans. "He's a lawyer; he can bail himself out."

Logan pushed his boardroom chair back, "I'll make it quick."

By the time he closed the boardroom doors behind him, Finn calls again.

"Finally!" Finn exclaimed, relieved through the phone. "Screening is rude, Logan."

"Is it urgent? I'm with the board," He answered, not missing a beat. "Am I on speaker?"

"Yes," Finn's voice sounded snappy, "I'm on my way to Mount Sinai. I'm driving down from Hartford; I need you to come. I need you there."

"The hospital? Is Kim okay?" Logan asked, alarmed, "Is something wrong with the…?"

"Kim is fine. The baby is fine. It's Chelsea."

"Then why the hell are you calling me for?" Logan couldn't keep the irritation out of his tone.

"Because you are still listed as her emergency contact."

**xx**

"You're her husband?" The experienced looking nurse blinked at him unconvinced. She pointed at an athletic woman glued to a plastic chair in the waiting area. "The women in yoga pants said she's her girlfriend when she came in."

Logan's eyes cast to Tammi, seeing her was a shock to the system. He knew of her, through third parties, but they've never met.

"Ex-Husband. She is. It's a long story." He corrected impatiently and slid his driver's license on the counter, "I'm listed. Huntzberger, that's me."

**xx**

"Logan! Thank goodness!" The Pilates instructor threw herself into his arms despite them being practically strangers. He caught her petite frame a little taken aback.

"I didn't know what to do! I found her in the bath. She passed out twice on the ambulance, they found stuff in her blood, and now they won't tell me anything. The police took her phone."

Tammi looked pale and tear-stained. Girls in crisis were a hot mess.

The police?

"What happened? Why are you in New York, anyway? What did she mix? Tammi, you need to give me something. Some information."

"I don't know! I didn't know what to do! Colin didn't answer. Finn is stuck in traffic driving from Hartford. He said that he'd call you. That you're in New York." She looked torn between feeling frantically distressed and deliriously happy to see him. "I found her in the bath."

Must have been a horrid experience.

"It's okay," He instinctively rested his hand on her arm to calm her. "A doctor will come to talk to us shortly. Don't worry about the police. Have you called her parents?"

Tammi shook her head slowly; Logan swore she looked like she's about to cry again.

"You don't know?" his expression implied that obviously, he didn't have a clue. "Her mother is out of town."

Not such a loss, Logan could do without the Mali Rosen showdown.

"And her dad … Her dad isn't very accepting of…" The Pilates instructor took a well-practiced breath, "She wanted to see him. They're not on good terms. At all. But he surprisingly agreed. I don't know what happened. That bitch Jillian Merriweather is screening my calls."

Logan nodded shortly. He squeezed her forearm in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"I'll go call Aaron Rosen." He said, "Next time you say you need to discuss the same-sex bill. It'll get you straight through."

God, he hoped there wouldn't be the next time.

**xx**

Logan Huntzberger was a handsome man. Tammi wasn't sure if it was down to his charming smile, his charismatic mannerism, his family name, or the husband card he waved around, but the moment he set foot in the E.R earlier that day, things set in motion.

Suddenly, the police signed off their report with a few vague questions and returned Chelsea's phone.

Finally, Doctors were relaying information. To him. Mostly. Although he made a point to include her.

It surprised her.

She understood now what made Chelsea gravitate to him or never entirely quit him. Logan was a delicate balance of power and charm. It was one thing to know it, and another thing to witness it.

"Remind me, what time is the appointment?" Logan stopped his pacing and ran his fingers through his hair and waited with the phone pressed to his ear.

Tammi waited back, studying him. He looked even better in person than he did in his wedding picture, which decorated her living room. Because Tammi practiced an 'if you can't beat them, join them' mantra.

Once the doctor left them with an initial update on Chelsea's status, Logan started conducting a string of phone calls to re-arrange his schedule. He was staying. Shocking. Tammi recognized some of the names he spoke to on the other side of the phone. Mitchum, Ben, Natalie, Mali Rosen. Aaron Rosen.

Names that Chelsea mentioned from time to time.

Once Finn arrived, with Colin in toe, Logan disappeared into a secluded corridor where she found him pacing—conducting yet another phone call.

"Can we postpone it? I'm not sure I'll be able to make it." The blonde man rubbed his neck, waiting patiently for his turn in the conversation. "I don't know; it could be a couple of hours or a couple of days. There's a few days window, right? Pushing it back a day or two would be extra safe."

Logan listens to the invisible person on the other end, getting frustrated with the answer.

"Then ask to move both appointments." He suggested. "Rory, being there is my first priority. You know that it is, but I have to take care of this mess. I can't leave New York yet, but I'll make it work. Trust me."

He paused again, worrying his lip.

"Rory. Listen. I know Dr. Pence is the best, but Dr. Dar is equally capable…" Tammi was surprised to hear his voice turns softer. "Can you, please, call the clinic and check? Or do I need to ask Natalie to do it? So that I can strategize."

It didn't take much to deduct; it's not a business call.

Tammi coughed lightly to indicate his conversation was no longer private.

The blonde man turned and noticed his ex-wife's girlfriend, "I have to go. Call me back with an update, okay? Please? I'll have my phone on. Natalie can find me if I'm not available. She has super-powers."

"Your girlfriend?" The Pilates instructor asked in a friendly voice.

"No."

"The doctor said Chelsea's awake. She's asking for you." Tammi's timid voice sent shivers down his spine.

Logan sighed; he didn't have time for this.

"I think you should go first. I need to get my head together." He said, and Tammi felt washed by relief.

**~w~**

* * *

Chelsea finds him standing at the viewing gallery of the hospital's nursery. She didn't believe Colin when he said it's where he'd be; now she isn't sure why.

"Hi, Husband." She steps closer timidly, taking a stance next to him, "They're cute. Colin said I'd find you here."

"I think they are scared I'm going to kidnap one; they keep looking at me funny."

"Which one?"

"Third row, fourth to the left. Doesn't look too wrinkled."

"It'll make a good front page: Multi-millionaire heir steals a baby from the hospital." Chelsea finds it funny. "Mitchum will appreciate it for sure."

"The man has an eye for breaking news."

He smiles to himself; It's surreal, staring through the glass at his heart desire with the first woman he ever dreamed it. A woman with whom he's never going to share this with.

"Can you believe Finn has a baby? Who would ever think Colin and Steph will be solid? And there's us - stuck in a moment, and we can't get out of it."

I'm having a baby too. Soon. Hopefully. If he gets back to Seattle in time.

It crosses his mind, briefly, that he should tell her. But Logan Huntzberger had decided, a long time ago, that Chelsea Rose will have no access to that part of his life.

So, he doesn't.

Logan slides down the opposite wall and sits on the hospital floor, resting his head back. Chelsea follows suit at his side.

"Did my father ever told you you're an asset?"

"No, he said I'm a bad influence." She rests her head on his shoulder. "The only good thing I ever did in his eyes was breaking your heart because he won you back that day. He actually thanked me for it once. That man has a mean streak in his bones. He never liked me."

Mitchum confessed he likes Rory. A few times.

"How do you feel crackpot? You pulled a Whitney Huston on me." Logan kisses the top of her head, "I thought we had a deal. You didn't have to do something extreme to get my attention. You could have just called."

"Would you pick up the phone?"

"You know that I would. It's my turn to return a favor. There's always Natalie if I don't."

"They are releasing me tomorrow. Thank you."

"It wasn't me. Your dad made the call."

"Dad?" her voice shook, her tone is doubtful, resentful, and a little bit hopeful. It tags on his heart springs because it's the same he uses for Mitchum sometimes. "Coming down must have been a hassle."

"You know he can't, Chelsea Rose. It's a risk for infection." Logan says gently.

"Can't or won't?" Chelsea looked mad heart-breakingly sad. "Tell him I said thank you."

"Tell him yourself. Meditating between you and him doesn't fall under my responsibility anymore." Chelsea bites her lip. Logan breathed her in. "Better wash your hair when you get out of here, but don't use the bath."

"I fell in love, Logan. I'm done apologizing for that. To him and you."

"I'm not asking you to apologize." Logan takes a breath, and glance at her briefly, "I'm asking you to cut me loose. Chels, you need to remove my name from everything. No more ties. You go your way, and I'll go mine."

Her apologies didn't make a difference anyhow.

"We'll always have ties, Logan." She says, as a matter of fact, "If two-piece of the same type of metal touch in space, they will permanently bond. It's the only part of your wedding vows you didn't steal from a movie. It's the best part."

"I took it from 'Ten fun facts you didn't know about space' article." He confesses.

Logan runs his hand in his hair. This is going to be one tough conversation.

A long over-due conversation.

"Memories - yes, scars – for sure, but no ties." He can feel his mature bone pocking again. "We were each other's out, but we don't need that anymore."

"I'm holding you back." Chelsea plays with the hospital band on her wrist.

He never confirms.

"You were going to leave eventually anyway. It's what you do when things aren't going your way. You were out of his shadow. You didn't need me anymore; I served my purpose." She says.

"That's bullshit; my heart was set on you."

"When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." She quotes and shakes her head at him sadly.

"Turns out, the rest of our lives were really short."

"It was the best rest of my life. Kim is convinced you're one romantic bastard. The rest of don't have the heart to tell her you are just a bastard stealing lines from Nora Ephron."

"She'll figure it out one day."

"Finn's best-man speech was a real dick move, Logan. It hurt, you know."

"It was meant to hurt. You asked me to marry you, Chelsea. I thought we had a shot at this."

"You can't monopolize heartache Logan; it's unbecoming. Your heart was a set on what Ben had. That was never part of the plan. People like us can't have what Ben has."

His heart stings like she threw acid on it.

She forces herself into his lap, and he doesn't fight her. They sit on the maternity ward floor, staring at each other straight in the eye.

"One day," Chelsea looks her ex-husband straight in the eye, "You're going to meet someone who will make your heart race. Someone that will color your world differently."

"I already did." He swallowed hard, "It happened with you."

"That was cocaine. It wasn't me."

He looks like she stumped on the last piece of his heart.

"I was just accelerating things. It was guaranteed at some point one or both of us will wanna get out of this thing."

"You need to cut the cocaine. I won't be here to throw my last name around the next time. I'm not sure he'll be around for much longer too." He stroke her hair gently, "He's really sick, Chelsea Rose."

"My father always said you are my greatest achievement. You're the boy my dad always wanted;" She caressed his cheek, "He got stuck with me instead."

"You know that's not true, Chelsea Rose." Both Logan and Chelsea knows how to hurt Aaron Rosen was when his daughter chopped off her father's name. It was her intentional aim.

"It is." She says in the same old stubborn resentment, "I don't fit in his vision. He was supposed to want to give that money to me. Not you. I was so angry at you for using it for 'Current.' We were supposed to start anew in California. Independent. No family on our backs."

"I know." They press their foreheads together, washed in the old memories.

"Can you imagine me there? In Seattle?" He knows what she's doing. They used to play this game all the time. The _'what if'_ game. What if they didn't have the life they had.

"No. You always hated the rain. And Ben." It doesn't mean he hadn't wanted her to, or could, at the time. But he's older, if not wiser now, and Logan knows that fantasy and reality rarely collide. It wouldn't have lasted. They made their love out of a stack of cards. "I didn't fit in your Californian dream, either."

"How's Ben?"

"He sends his love." The mutual loathing between these two ran deep. Logan appreciated they both loved him enough to tolerate each other politely once upon a time.

"There isn't a day I don't regret it. The way it went down. I needed out, but it doesn't mean I was ready to let you go. Because you not being in my life, in any capacity, is torture." Chelsea holds his face in her hands, "I got issues. One of them is how much I need you."

"I could have lived blissfully ignorant without this additional burden," Logan says.

"Every time I think of you, I always catch my breath, and I have to remind myself that if you wanted to talk to me - you would."

"Just because I don't talk to you doesn't mean I don't think of you, worry about you, miss you, care for you or wonder how you are doing." He admits, "Some days, I still feel like your man."

"You will always be my main man." Chelsea peered at him carefully, if he didn't know better, he'd say longingly. "You and me, we have a whole lot of history. Nothing could ever come between you and I. Besides you and I. It took me a long time to come to terms that you coming back to me is against all the odds."

"I think Phil Collins will charges you for royalties."

"Well, my burden to bear." She strokes his cheek, "You need a shave. Now give us a kiss Star-boy."

Their lips meet tentatively. Her familiarity feels like a distant memory, but it's comforting none the less.

"You don't love me anymore." She whispers as their foreheads pressed together again, "It's in his kiss. Cher is never wrong."

She was his queen since they were sixteen. It's hard to move on from that. But he can't keep sitting here, staring at his past when his future awaits him in Seattle.

It's time.

"She knows there's always be a special place in my heart, for her. She knows, no matter how far apart we are."

"Two hearts, living in just one mind. I'll tell Phil to put your royalties on my tab. Because I'm nice." She entwines her fingers in his, "Logan?"

"What?" He asks, smiling.

"You need to hear this. I need to tell you this. I don't know when I'll see you next." She plays with his hand, her wedding ring shines, "I love you. I love you for the man you want to be. And I love you for the man almost are."

"That's not how she says it in the movie." He gives a watery smile. He can't help it. "I love you too, Chelsea Rose."

"I slightly adapted it. I can't stand that movie. _Jerry Maguire_ is a lousy film."

"It's the best film ever." He laughs.

"I know Finn isn't supposed to tell me things about your life. But I make him." He doesn't look particularly surprised at her admission. "You'll make a terrific dad."

He looks away. She still knows to read him best. "You think so?"

"I have no doubt in my mind." She says with such certainty he can't help but believe her, "My dad's not going to die before you get your kid, Logan. He is too stubborn, and he's dying to see it."

"Gees, Chelsea." Logan shakes his head disapprovingly.

"What? You don't appreciate my morbid sense of humor anymore? You better get your act together, Huntzberger."

**~w~**

* * *

**_Seattle_**

Logan walked fast through the busy street and traffic lights. He checked the time; he'll make it only a few minutes late. It was touch and go. He thanked his lucky stars they managed to push it back two days.

Biology sucked.

It was Friday, and Logan hasn't felt this light in years. The extra bounce in his step jerked him forwards with every step. He had a good feeling about today. It was going to work.

His face breaks into a huge smile when he sees the familiar brunette stepping out of the building.

"Great, you're here." Logan grabs Rory's wrist dragging her along with him back inside, "I'm here. Let's go make a baby!"

Rory dug her heels in the ground, not moving.

"You're late." She accused.

"Fifteen minutes." Logan pulled at her hand again. "My flight delayed at landing, there was an enormous line for taxi, and traffic. Don't get me started on the traffic; it was horrendous. Come on, let's get back inside. Chop-chop. They'll squeeze us in."

"No, Logan, time's up." She resists, trying to pull her hand out of his grip. Her heels skidded on the marble floor of the lobby. "Our appointment time passed. They pushed it back twice. They moved around patients. It's someone else turn now. You're too late."

"Don't worry about it. I'll pop in for a quick chat with the clinic manager. It's not a problem; nothing money can't sort. I just need ten minutes, seven, if I'm really fast. Piece of cake." He throws a glance her way, "You're all ready to go, right?"

Her face clouds like thunder, she shakes his hand off and steps out of her heels.

More balance to her feet.

"Rory, what are you doing? Put your shoes on."

"I'm going home." She announces shoes in her hand, "This isn't something a flash of your charm and throwing a bunch of money can fix."

"What? are you kidding me? No one's going home. I just got here." Logan counters, "This is exactly the type of thing throwing money fixes. We need an appointment, and we need it today, and money can make it happen. Why are we wasting time arguing about this?"

"You don't get it to do you?" She turned the pointed edge of her shoe at herself, "I'm not sitting in that awful room another minute. You said you'd be here on time!"

Logan can't help but remember the last confrontation they had with her pointing her shoes at him.

"No, I don't get it!" He snapped, "I'm sorry I got delayed, I took every precaution to try and avoid it. I can't control everything. I had to take care of that crisis, but I told you, this is my priority. And I'm here now. Fifteen minutes late - but here none the less. If I have to throw a couple of dollars to make it happen, I would. I promise you it doesn't make a dent. So let's go."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?" He checks the time impatiently, "Look, Rory, I don't know what's your problem with money. It doesn't matter now; we can hash it out later. But time fly and money talks. Let's face it - I have it. You have it. And whatever kid we're going to have is going to have it."

"No means no. It's not just about the money, Logan," Her blue eyes blazed with cold fire, "It's the principle."

"What principle?"

"The principle that there isn't just _your_ way. You aren't the one to call the shots - if you don't get the shots. It's my body. My uterus. My way. My call. And I say none of your swimmers are going anywhere near it today."

"Rory, stop making a scene." Her mutters and her mouth set into a hard line.

"If you can't take the drama, then go find yourself another incubator and take your stand by embryos out of the freezer. Or go the fuck back to New York. I don't care." She spun around, with the shoes in her hand, "Don't you dare follow me!"

"Rory!"

**Xx**

"What do you want?" Rory wished she never answered the door two hours later.

It wasn't Pizza. It was Logan.

All she wanted was a quiet Friday night with pizza, ice-cream, radio-silence and no mentions of him.

"Get dressed. Pack your bag." Logan storms into her apartment like a Tasmanian Devil rattling a list. "You'll need your hiking boots. Your soft-shell jacket and running shoes. Might want to take your camera too, not that it ever leave your side."

"I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even want to see you or talk to you. So please remove yourself from the premises." She says stubbornly. "And I don't have running shoes."

"No problem," He says, unfazed, already digging socks out of her dresser, "We'll sort you out on the way. Now get ready. You might need a warm hat too. And gloves. Extra batteries."

"On the way where?" She regretted her curiously when a triumphed grin spread on his face.

"We're going on a road trip! Grab you toothbrush."

Rory Gilmore stared at him. He couldn't act more like her mother if he intentionally tried.

"No we're not."

"Yes we are. Because you and I, we need to get out of Seattle."

"We can't just leave."

"The whole point of it is to be spontaneous to drive and land someplace we've never been and never expected to be!" He announced. "We leave in fifteen minutes. Leave the folders at home."


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Thank you for being wonderful and patient.'Score' and reference list in comments section for this chapter if you're interested._

* * *

**September 2013**

**_Vancouver Island_**

The Ferry to Vancouver Island is like a floating mall. A food court. A gift shop. It even has an indoor playground for kids. Rory rushed her steps past it in her search for a seat. She grabbed some tourist brochures, hoping they'd reveal the clue for their destination anywhere. They are not much help; the options are repetitive and are too conventional.

Logan doesn't do conventional.

The man in question stepped away to make a call while the phone reception is still decent. He looked almost apologetic when his phone rang as they climbed up the stairs to the passenger hall.

So for now, Rory occupies herself drawing on some abandoned napkins.

She's still mad at him anyway. Logan is infuriating. It wouldn't be outrageous to say they are locked in the tempestuous phase for a while, either shouting or shagging. She doesn't know why she agrees to do either with him. Or go on this trip.

"It's the biggest I could find. I don't guarantee that it's good." Logan carefully sets a large coffee in front of her, followed by a Mars bar. "And a treat from the vending machine. Truce?"

He smiles boyishly while Rory eyes the Mars bar suspiciously, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No. Are you breaking up with me?" He lends her logic.

"The last time you gave me a Mars bar, in a non-territorial setting, you broke up with me."

"You needed to get on that plane. I was being noble."

"It was cruel." She retorts obviously in disagreement.

"You got to be cruel to be kind, in the right measure."

It's a dick thing to say, and she tells him so.

"You would have left anyway. Just less free." Logan warps both his hands on his cup across from her, "You wanted to travel, Rory. I was building a future. I'm root, and you are driftwood. We were in different places in life."

It's a clarity that sits better with her six months after the fact. Yet she can't help with think that sometimes, most of the time, it feels they still are.

Rory doesn't like to being a driftwood.

"I got out of the lives at odds equation before; I didn't want to be there again." His ability to say so much with so little, and yet remain so unclear never cease to amaze her.

_'You are exactly like her, and you don't even know it_.' Ben's words still ring in her head every time Logan and her clash.

"With Chelsea."

"Yes, with Chelsea." He confirms his eyes lower to the beverage in his cup.

"What now?"

"I'm hoping you'd share that Mars bar, to be honest." He expertly avoided discussing it farther.

"Where are we going?" she means it both literally and metaphorically.

"Nowhere these refer to." Logan pointed on the brochures of Victoria and its area. His smirk tells her he enjoys keeping her in the dark. "There's a few hours drive until we get there."

You can always count on Logan to take things in their most literal way. His father sure knew him well.

"I thought the whole point is to drive and land someplace we've never been and never expected to be."

"It was just a way to get you to come. But who said we aren't?" His eyes glitter, "We're going Glamping."

"I'm not sleeping in a tent!" Rory protested.

"You and Colin get on fantastically well, don't you?" Logan asks, amused, "Oh, by the way, this thing is more than overnight. Did I mention that before?"

Rory's eyes narrowed. No, he didn't. So Lorelai of him. Her L's were more alike than Rory liked to admit.

"Oh, must have slipped your mind." She deadpans.

"Didn't screw up anything for you, does it?" He teased.

"No." She's not going to give him the satisfaction that she'd chosen him over other plans.

"No?" She was so easily goaded. "Um, loose schedule. Good."

"You can dream of getting your hands on that Mars bar, Huntzberger."

He doesn't look too surprised at her aggression. "What's up with the napkins?"

"Nothing," Rory says quickly, unluckily failing to secure them all out of his prying hands.

"Washed sperm. That's funny." He chuckles at the contoured image of a sperm taking a shower, equipped with a shower hat on and a sponge, "You drew this? Are there any more of these hiding there?"

Rory shrugs bashfully.

"Aren't you full of surprises," He smirks beckoning his fingers at the other napkins, "Well, let me see."

**~w~**

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Rory hopefully asks when Logan parks the SUV in the parking space. It was getting dark already.

How different her Friday night was turning out to be.

"No. Just a stop in the way." Logan unbuckled his seat belt and exited the car without another word.

She hates when he does that.

"For food?" She's hungry. The smell of the sea, salt, and a hint of fish and chips assaulted her nose when she followed. She spies a few eateries, shops, and the pier. "Where are we?"

"Cowichan Bay. I'll feed you later. You might get sick." He opens the trunk of the car, unzipping one of the bags and starts rummaging through, "Dress warmly. Don't take your camera; it'll get wet, and your hands will be busy. We're taking to the sea."

"But it's dark."

"It's a full moon tonight. But that's what we have these for." He waves two head-lights at her excitedly.

The way he moves is like a full-on rain-storm. He's the kind of reckless that should send her running. But she knows by now she never gets far when she tries, because sparks fly whenever he smiles.

Rory follows Logan's confident lead down to a small cabin at the edge of the pier. A pair of gloves stick out from the back pocket of his jeans. They fit him perfectly and look well-worn. She didn't even know Logan owned a pair of jeans. She mostly sees him in a work-related setting or straight afterward. His casual look usually involves chinos.

His hands immediately feel for something above the wooden storage door.

"What are you looking for?" It's chilly, and she's glad he made her cover-up.

"Ah-ha!" He calls in triumph the small metal shine in his hand. "The key."

"Are we stealing a boat?" she stands back as he fumbles with the lock.

"A kayak." He corrects, "And no, we are not stealing, I paid."

The storage door soon opens, and he finds the little light, revealing a neat line of paddles, stocked single kayaks, and a stack of life-vest. Other sailing stuff she's not familiar with. Logan headed straight for the life-vests. The next thing she knows, he adjusts the straps and snaps the buckles on her.

"Hold this." Logan trusts a paddle and an additional life-vest into her hand.

Rory watches him lower down a double kayak from the stand outside the cabin. He carries it over to the water's edge, placing it down on the wooden raft.

"Um, Logan," She stands awkwardly on the pier, paddle in hand, "Kayaking is a sport. A Gilmore girl doesn't engage in any sporting activity."

"First time for everything." He moves to stand behind her, correcting her holds on the paddle. "Okay, quick lesson. The long edge of the blade should be on top. Make sure the scooped part is facing you. Don't hold too tight, or your hands will hurt."

If it weren't for the life-vest, he'd be extremely close.

"You row the paddle like you're drawing an eight shape. You'll get the hang of it pretty quickly. If you want to slow down, paddle backward, or you want to make a turn, just tell me. I'll be doing all the steering anyways."

"Um. But –"

"I'll guide you through it. Don't worry." He says, adjusting his life-vest, "Now get in the front seat, I need to adjust the lengths of the footholds to fit you in."

"I'm not getting in that thing. It's just inflated plastic; we'll drown if I get into that thing. Trust me; I'm bad luck. And I'm pretty bad at sport."

"You never kayaked before, didn't you?"

"If my mother will know that I engaged in a sporting activity… she'll…"

"She'll what?" The headlight he wears points at her, "It's not a sport. It's a recreation. Leisure activity."

Lorelai will be appalled, and she'd talk up a storm, and mock, and that's pretty much it.

"It is in the Olympics Games?" She challenged not ready to give in yet.

"Yes." He answers.

"Then, it's a sport." Rory insists.

"Rory. I swear to god, get in the kayak, or I'll throw you in the water." He warns. "You're taking out all the fun."

"You wouldn't dare." She sneered at him.

"Oh, I would. And the water's cold. Don't test me."

**xx**

"See! you're getting good at it!" Rory seriously doubted the compliment. She found the paddling a struggle. Logan was doing most of the work, manhandling the kayak in the back seat of the double.

"No, I'm not." He was just playing nice. If he stops counting, she messes up the rowing rhythm.

The water in the bay is a flat mirror of a million stars night. The dark mass of water glimmered under the moonlight. Yellow window's light symbols the houses on the shore. The silver lining of the moon's reflection on the water it takes her breath away.

Rory was never one overly impressed by panoramic views; she was more into looking at details.

"Let's drift a bit, give your arms a rest." Rory's relief matched the gentle lull of the water against the kayak. Her arms were getting tired. She sneaks a glance over her shoulder.

Logan balances his paddle horizontally on the kayak, staring at the stars. Rory copies his stances and wiggles in her seat, trying to get more comfortable.

"Hey!" He hits her lightly with the paddle, "No sharp movements! You'll flip us over."

"It'll be like in the Little Mermaid. All we are missing is a Red Lobster singing."

She hears Logan chuckle behind her, "You know, I'm starting to see some advantages to a girl losing her voice. It doesn't ruin the moment."

They continue to drift in silence. She is driftwood floating on the water. Drifting feels less intimidating now when she's with him.

"Sweep your paddle in the water." He says out of the blue.

"What?" she jarred out her thoughts. The water looks darker; they had drifted farther away from any human-induced light, farther away from the boats in the pier: just the moon and their headlights.

"Sweep it." He encourages, and Rory dips her paddle in the water.

The water glows in neon blue, where her paddle touch. A trail of blue-ish dotted light turns into strings, like blue glitters flying in the water. Rory's eyes widen with amazement. "Oh my god! What the…?"

"Do it again." Logan reaches out his paddle as far as he can, sweeping an arc in the water. It glows again. As if the water is filled with under-water fireflies. "Amazing. Isn't it?"

Rory stares at the strange magic. It's startling and stunning at the same time, "What is that?"

"Sea Sparkle." His voice is full of awe. "I wanted to see it for so long; I never got here at the right time of year."

"Sea Sparkle?" Rory stutter in disbelieve. She wishes she didn't listen and brought her camera. This is probably the strangest and most romantic experience she ever had.

How can something so small and so trivial create something so magnificent?

"Bio-luminescent allege. They glow when disturbed; it's an instinct chemical reaction." Logan explains, excitement laced in his voice. "You're ready to paddle? There are billions in the water. We're going to light them up."

She can't imagine anything else more worthy of breaking the Gilmore rule book for, except this man.

**~w~**

* * *

She never even stop to look around when the car finally park and Logan points at the door leading to their final destination. It's pretty dark, and Rory desperately needs to pee. She beelines to the washroom.

Only when she steps out of the small washroom, she pays attention to detail. The light is dimmed inside the round the structure; it's like an Igloo. Or like a hobbit house. A pod. Little Christmas lights. Some other soft hidden lighting. Wooden floor.

But the most dominant features are the panoramic window and the queen size bed facing it.

There, on the bed, Logan is sprawled on top of the covers. She hardly thinks his stillness is intentional.

"Logan," she whispers, stroking the hair of the man passed out on the bed. He stirs at her touch.

"Twenty minutes, and I'm good as new." He mumbles, eyelids full of sleep.

"Maybe you should at least get out of the damp clothes." Rory smiles tenderly; he looks exhausted. She nearly forgot that he woke up today in New York, flew across the country to Seattle, and drove over six hours, getting them to here.

Where here was she doesn't know. She has fallen asleep in the car and missed the signs.

He answers something muffled, and Rory realizes she'd have to take matters into her own hands. So she starts with his jeans.

"I knew you wanted to get your hands on me, Gilmore." His drawl is playful.

She does. But there's no way he can deliver. "No, I meant, change into something more comfortable, or…"

"Pajamas are for sissies." He can barely resist sleep but co-operates enough to let her take his jeans off. His pullover follows.

"Go to sleep, Logan." She pulls the covers from under him.

"I can't sleep." He says drowsily with his eyes closed. "I need my sleeping pills."

Rory is surprised. But then again, she realizes that they only sporadically went to sleep together without falling into bed first. Each time that happened, he was extremely restless, and Rory always woke up alone. She always thought it was due to avoidance. Maybe it wasn't just that.

This new revelation explains a lot.

"I think tonight - you're good." She stroked his hair again; he sighs contently, leaning into her touch.

She smiles to herself.

Rory doesn't know what to think of this man. This complicated riddle of a man. Is this a lasting treasure? Or just a moment's pleasure? Can she believe the magic in his sigh?

Logan is spattering clues at her, giving her sneak peeks of feelings. Then he takes them away by changing the rules. It's awfully confusing.

She knows her camera loves him. She thinks she loves him too.

But there's this constant nagging voice that keeps asking, will he still love her tomorrow?

**Xx**

"It's still dark, Logan," Rory mumbled when he gently shakes her awake.

"Not for long, come on." He whispers, "You can sleep when you're dead."

He drags her out of bed, blanket in toe, setting them both on the wooden floor to its foot. Her back settle against his chest. The last fading twinkle of stars displayed in the enormous panoramic window.

"You don't sleep much, do you?" She enjoys the heat radiating from him.

"Four hours a night. If I'm lucky."

"Like Clinton. I need my camera." She untangles herself to retrieve it just in time to snap the first thin line of daybreak hit the water. The light slowly washes the water with color, revealing the bay and the small islands spotting the view. A water-plane sky on the water taking off.

The pod is right at the water. All she sees is the sea.

Rory lays her head in the crook of his neck. The blanket wrapped around them.

"Not what you expected is it?"

"No, not at all what I expected." She admits. When he said Glamping, she didn't imagine this romantic glam. She was starting to stress about bug spray.

"Let me guess what you were thinking: sleeping bags, flashlights, a pack of beer, stable Triscuits, half-eaten pack of Oreo's, some Doritos, and a bong." He teases.

"That may be exactly what I pictured."

"You can apologize later." He said with a smile in his voice, "Not _everything_ that applies to Ben applies to you."

"So, no cuddling with Ben?"

"Nah, mostly hand-holding." He jokes lightly, his fingers playing with hers.

"How come us doing anything in Seattle is a big no-no and a huge secret. But you're cool with being business partners for life?" She alludes to their agreement.

"You're not my business partner, Rory." He says seriously.

Rory's heart race, or maybe it's the addition of his pumping against her back. She can't quite tell.

"I'm not your friend, either." She says as the natural daylight creeps into their bubble.

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life," He mutters into her hair, "Let's… let's not define this quite yet, okay?"

If it built like a bubble, it looks like a bubble and feels like a bubble. Maybe Rory doesn't want to pop the bubble just yet. She drops the subject.

"Logan, where are we?"

"Tofino, British Columbia." His voice achieved new lightness, "You know what's west of here?"

"No, what?" She looks at him curiously.

"Japan! This is the end of the earth." He sounds so pleased then he breaks distance. "But we gotta hit the trails; the weather says it's going to rain later."

**~w~**

* * *

"Do you have any fours?" Rory questioned, sitting Indian style on the bed.

By Saturday noon, they are rained in, and the deck of card they found supplies some entertainment. After a few rounds of 'Whist' and 'Spades,' they resorted to 'Go Fish.' The rain knocks persistently on the top of the glam-camping pod. It runs pouring down on the panoramic window displaying the bay.

"Go fish," Logan answers in a bored tone. He is lying flat on his back, head resting in his hands. His pile of cards rested on his chest. "I could teach you poker, you know."

"You didn't even look." Rory accused.

"I don't have to look. I know I don't have any fours, and I know you have at least two, if not three of them."

"Did you peek at my cards?"

"You keep asking me for fours." He gave her a side look. "You know, you don't have to play money; we can make it the interesting version."

His offer was shut-down immediately, again, "I'm not playing strip poker with you."

Logan sighed, "Do you have any queens?"

"Go fish."

"Let's go to the beach." He suggests, "I need to get back outdoors."

"But we're in the middle of a game, and it's raining."

"So? Are you made of sugar?" her peers at her, his features slowly turning reflective. "Rory, do you like the rain?"

"I don't mind it."

"Do you like Ben?" is his next question.

Rory chewed her lip; she used to. Ben is a decent guy; he helped with the comics for a while; he allowed her to take time off when she needed it. He was a great boss until things tangled up with Logan. Ben only spat out his claws when it comes to Logan.

Come to think of it, he warned her.

"He's very protective of you."

"Ben is protective of Current." Logan chuckles coyly, "Do you like working at Current?"

"Not on the days, Ben's an ass, and you're a jerk." Mostly she did, "Why do you ask?"

"Because people are starting to ask questions. I told Ben off for chewing you out, so he has been patient with you playing hooky. But…" He paused, she's not going to like it, "You are kinda stretching it… This needs to be kept quiet."

Rory lowered her cards, "You're such a hypocrite."

"How am I a hypocrite?"

"There is no 'no dating policy' at Current. You don't have any problem with Patel and Nicole smooching; Nicole said you didn't care."

"I do have a problem with office smooching, I've made it perfectly clear to everybody involved." He responds, "Let's not talk about work. Any Sevens?"

"What? how can we not talk about work?"

"Fine." He threw his cards on the bed, pulling himself up, "Let's talk about work. Let's talk of how obliviously ignorant you are about the big picture or the fact that this is an extremely complex situation."

"I'm not ignorant."

He starts pacing, looking for something to twirl in his hand. The headlights seem to cut it. Rory is quick to capture the change in his demeanor.

"Don't take my picture." It only flares him further.

"It's in the contract." She states. "It's not complicated, Logan. You make it complicated. You and your obsessive need to keep things separated!"

"Of course, it has to be separated! Don't you get what enormous potential for a sexual harassment lawsuit this is? It can completely sink us under."

"I'm not going to sue you, Logan. You're not even my direct boss. We're not even regularly sleeping together!" She snaps at him.

"You say that now, but you don't know." Logan counters pointedly, "It's a huge risk I'm taking here. Ben is far from happy for it, and I can't blame him. There's nothing I can say to reassure him because I already betrayed my promise to him on that matter. More than once."

"What do you mean?"

"It doesn't matter." He deflects her question, "Putting that aside, you are naïve to think that people knowing will not change anything."

"It won't. And it does matter."

"Really? Wanna bet?" He challenges twirling the flashlight by its band, "Do you think people are going to act normal around you once they know? That they won't think twice? People are going to censor everything they say around you and to you. You think they won't be scared that it might land on the boss's ear whom you conduct pillow talk with?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She hears herself say not as confidently as she wished.

"What about promotions? Huh? What about salary raise? Have you thought what are the consequences of that?" Logan is on a roll, "Everything will be tainted, whether you earned it rightfully or not. It means every project, every client you work with, every letter of recommendation, every extended lunch break. It will always look like you got it because you're fucking the boss."

"I don't think the girls at work will have a problem with my lunch break perks, Logan."

"Rory." He doesn't find it funny, "I'm not great at being noble. That is what it's like in the real world. Your friends are not my only employees."

"I don't care what people say."

"You'd care when the topic of conversation at the water cooler is our sex life."

"I hate to break it to you, Logan. Your sex life is pretty much the center of every lunch break; your office manager is obsessed with it. Mine is discussed over three coffee breaks. It might actually raise productivity if it ties up just to one conversation a day."

"I'm not joking. This is serious."

"You're really good at telling me you don't want to date me. That's fine. I get it, but you don't get the right to throw a jealous fit. We have a deal."

"I never said that I don't want to date you. I said, I can't. There's a huge difference."

"There's no difference at all." Rory Gilmore feels suddenly brave by his little giveaway, "I'm not gonna work at Current forever!"

"Neither am I!" He snaps at her. It's like a stretch on a vinyl record.

"What do you mean?" She's flustered with the speed the conversation turned, "You own it."

"Current is Ben's dream come true. New York is the end game for me."

_'How do you like New York, Rory?'_ Mitchum's Huntzberger words sprong in her head. Was that what he meant? Was that the reason Colin's star ended in New York?

"So, what's the problem?" She wished her voice didn't sound so small.

"Being with me has other consequences as well. Huntzberger implications." Logan continues carefully, "I don't want you to get sucked in it, I told you that in New York. If this is under the radar, I can control it better. I don't want to hold you back."

_'Logan bends quite a lot of rules for you. And if Logan is willing to risk clashing with Ben then…'_ Colin's insights flood up by association with rules. Mitchum's too: _'He never fails to bend the rules.'_

"Your family isn't even in the business of what I want to do!"

"Rory, I doubt my father failed to imply how influential the Huntzberger name during your little chat." Logan sighed at the uneasy look on her face, "Especially in New York. You have to let me play this by my rules. Until I figure it out."

"Let's go to the beach." Suddenly she needs outdoors too. All this sudden candidness is so overwhelming.

"But, it's raining." The camera captures his deflated stand.

Her blues eyes look at him, vulnerably, "I'm sure you'll think of something."

**~w~**

* * *

The prompted up trunk door of the SUV serves a protective roof from the wind and the rain. Rory and Logan sit in the back cabin watching Strom-surfers ride the rainy waves at Long Beach, drinking local beer and smoking a joint.

"Finn always wanted to do that," Logan says, gesturing at the sportive silhouettes.

"How is Finn experiencing magical family life?" It seems like so long ago that she was his wedding photographer. But only three years have passed since the day Rory Gilmore first laid her eyes and her lens on Logan Huntzberger.

It's kind of funny how entwined their lives are while they are trying so hard to keep them artificially separated. Logan's best friend is her mother's business partner. His parents are what society calls family friends. Her grandmother is friends with his ex-mother in law.

It's only a chance that they've never met at Yale.

If they had, he would have never looked her way anyway. Rory wasn't part of his usual crowd.

Logan shrugged, suckling on the joint. "Colin says he loves it."

"You're not talking?"

"We talk. We just don't talk about that." There are hints of envy in his voice. Logan alternates the joint with the beer, "I told you, I'm not great at being noble."

"Because of your New York baby?" She asks gently.

"Colin is a real blabbermouth. He told you everything, didn't he?" Logan swallows the beer with effort, "Should have been born by now. I could have been a dad."

Rory feels a pang in her heart. This weekend set in motion because she denied him a chance to become a dad. She doesn't regret it for a minute; it was the right thing to do - for HER.

But if Current is Ben's dream come true, Rory is no longer in doubt that becoming a dad is Logan's.

Rory blows the smoke into the chilly air. It swirls slowly.

"What happened in New York? What was the big crisis?" She dreaded asking. Rory Gilmore is a top-honors graduate of Christopher Hayden's academy of broken promises and half-hearted excuses. She has heard them all.

He promised he'd been there on time, and he lied.

"Chelsea overdosed." He says quietly, looking straight ahead to the waves.

Rory's eyes snap sharply to his profile, "What..? Your ex-wife Chelsea?"

"It's not the first time." he adds, "That's all you need to know."

"Why do you always do that?" She can't help the frustration out of her tone, "Why everything is always on a need to know basis with you?"

"I don't see you giving anything personal back." He gives her a dirty look as and his jaw hardens. "Rory, let's not tell our sad stories. I want to keep you and her separated."

"You want to keep everything separated."

Logan looked at her pained. Keeping things separated always served him well. Yet trying to keep things separated with Rory Gilmore, even if it's for her own good, somehow only ends up with a fight.

The wind killed the joint.

"I'll take you getting mad at me for anything, but you can't be mad at me for that. I don't expect you to understand, but you don't get to be included in that a part of my life. Ever."

"Because that's not the rule of a business partner." She deadpans.

"You're not my business partner, Rory. How many times to I have to say it for you to actually get it?"

"I'm not?" The venom hangs from her question.

"No," He says after a while, "You're my baby-partner."

"Baby partner." She's not satisfied with that definition either. It sounds like a carefully crafted language manipulation, "You make it sound like a partner in a joint venture."

"It is a joint venture." He rolls his eyes, "We're talking about joint custody."

"Yes, a fifty-fifty venture, equal shares." Her tone drips of sarcasm.

"If you want to put it that way." He says carefully, and she gets the feeling he's not pleased with the terminology. "I didn't make you do this. It was your idea. If you want out, now is the time to say so."

"Wasn't that the logic?"

"What logic?"

"If we're equal partners with a negotiated and legally binding contract, something that is entirely separate from Current, then legally speaking, you're not just my boss." It suddenly dawns at her, "That's how you rationalized it. That's the loophole out of being my boss, isn't it? Is that why you wanted it in writing?"

"Partly." He says vaguely.

"Baby partner." She weights the words on her tongue. It feels nice. Nicer than a business partner. Much nicer than falling in the definition of his occasional bed-guest. "I like that."

Baby-partner. Rory likes this term better. She loves the way his mind works with words.

"Me too. If you're still on board." He drops the end of the joint into the empty bottle of beer.

"I don't know if I want to do this anymore." It feels like a burden off her shoulders to finally say that out loud.

"I know."

The thing is, Rory doesn't know what happens to them if she's out. At the same time, the thought of having anyone else as her baby's daddy equally breaks her heart and terrifies her.

"What now?" She asks when the heavy silence stretches between them.

"Now, we just take it in," Logan says softly, his eyes fixed on the view of the setting sun on the edge of the world.

She doesn't know if he means the sunset or her admission. He's an expert at dodging and cutting conversations short.

"It's beautiful here." The camera snaps the picture of a vibrant pacific ocean through the raindrops.

"There's no place like the Island. It's my favorite place in the whole world."

She fires a flash at him, "You've been here before."

"No. First time."

Rory gives a small eye roll.

"First time with you."

His boyish smile escapes. He so charming when he wants to be.

**~w~**

* * *

"What is it like to have a sister?" Rory lies upside-down on the bed. "I mean I have a half-sister, she's my dad's. But she's much younger than I, and we didn't grow up together…"

"Honor's bossy. And interfering." And he loves her for it, "It's a pain in the ass."

Logan sits at the foot of the bed, checking his messages.

"Are you working?"

"Just checking my messages. I can't go AWOL for too long." It reminds her this experience is temporary.

"It's the weekend." Rory's face break into a silly smile, "Did she made you play dress up?"

"Afraid so."

"Mom and I used to play dress-up all the time. We used to put pillowcases on our heads and pretended we're getting married. I think she enjoyed it more than I did." She mused, giggling, "Are there any pictures?"

"God, I hope not." He cocked his head at her, entertained by her giggly form. The second joint really got to her. Rory Gilmore is chatty under the influence, he nearly forgot. "You okay there?"

It's yet another thing she only feels good about doing when she's with him. No judgment. He took her weed-smoking virginity that night at the alley. First times are always special.

"The room feels a little swashy." She's the driftwood.

"It's 'cause you're upside down. Maybe you should eat something." He says concerned.

Logan is sweet like Bear Paw. "I want a Bear Paw."

"Only Oreo's left, I'm afraid."

"Do you remember the night at the pyramid?" Maybe she's not too bothered about food after all.

"Yes."

"My mom and I didn't speak for months after that night."

"Why?"

"Lots of reasons." She whispers as if it's a secret. Because Lorelai is judgmental, and Rory isn't living up to her mother's expectations. Because of her dad. "Because of you."

"Me? What does it have to do with me?"

"I don't want you just for the weekend." Rory breaths. She wants him to see her like no one before.

"There's always Monday. That's half the week." He strokes her hair affectionately, "I'm on and off in New York until Thanks Giving, but after that, it's Seattle nearly full time."

It feels like a win.

"How come?" Rory rolls into her stomach, leaning on her elbows. It doesn't add up with his earlier revelation about his New York end game.

"I worked it out with my father." Logan lays his head back on the bed. In her state, he doesn't think it's wise to push the conversation into the real reason he bargained his father for.

"For real?" Her insecurities show, "You also said it's your priority and that you'd be there on time. And you didn't."

"Yes." One syllable man.

Past experience taught Rory not to count on well-presented plans. They can be deflated easily. If Christopher Hayden had a dollar every time he delivered a relatively convincing excuse or relayed heart-felt apology supposedly – he could double his not-so-little fortune.

"That's a lot of Mondays." She says carefully.

"A girl has got to eat." It's impossible not to kiss his brilliant smile.

**~w~**

* * *

Logan's phone code is 2-1-0-6.

"What's the date stand for?" Rory asks in the passenger seat a large bag of flavored chips in her lap. They are waiting for the road construction to clear.

"The summer solstice. The longest daylight day of the year." It's also the date of his wedding day, but he leaves that out.

The radio signal is weak, and the soundtrack for their Sunday drive back south is supplied by his phone. Rory hogged his I-tunes, saying she wanted to pick his musical mind. Logan hits the skip button on the steering wheel every time the first notes of a Phil Collins song comes on.

He also skips Stereophonic's Dakota.

Rory says it's cheating, but he can't listen to them while she's in the car.

"Don't you have AC/DC?"

"Do I look like an AC/DC kind of guy?" Logan leans his elbow on the driver seat window, cradling his head in his palm, watching the blocked road.

"AC/DC's Highway To Hell is a road trip classic! You can't do without it!" Rory says, "When my mother got cold feet the night before her wedding to Max, we had to suffer Country Radio the whole road trip because she forgot her tunes."

"Tom Petty's Free Falling," He says after a while, "That's a real road trip classic."

Rory puffed, "No, it isn't."

"It is. Even Cameron Crowe thinks so." Logan drums his fingers on the steering wheel. "Why did she get cold feet?"

"Because of my dad. It's always because of my dad." She doesn't know if she speaks of her mother or herself. A moment later, Rory sneaked a side glance at his profile, "Why me?"

"What do you mean?" The whole weekend feels like they are conducting one long conversation in intervals. Or many conversations over-due.

"If this is so complicated as you say. Why me? I know, for a fact, that you don't lack prospects."

"Rumor has it you're not trying to land me, you're just using me for sex." He gives a cheeky smile.

"You shouldn't listen to rumors." Rory stuffed her face with some more chips. There was only one person who could relay the message to him, and she knows who it was.

"You didn't need a rope."

"What?"

"The night of the planetarium. At my parent's house, you didn't need a rope." He catches her eye briefly in the rear-view mirror, "I hate that house. I don't even know why I took you there. I rarely spend the night there."

"Because New York was too far away." Her citing his reason from that night make a small smile creep on his lips. He wanted to re-cash on the magic as soon as possible that night. "Was there a rope?"

"There's always a rope."

"What if I needed a rope?"

"I would have taken you home." He would give her an out if she needed one.

The traffic starts moving again.

"Why me?" Logan asked.

Rory shrugged, "You look like the guy who'd tango in a gas station."

Logan laughs, "I look like the guy who'd dance in a gas station? You're something else."

"I like my version better. Chips?" She angles the package towards him.

He shakes his head. Logan doesn't like flavored chips, "Can I ask you something else?"

She looks at him with interest.

"Where's my golf club?"

**Xx**

They are nearly at the ferry when Logan navigates the car to the nearest gas station. "Do we need gas? Didn't we filled it up before we started driving?"

They've been driving all day. It was already dark. The moon looked a little less full than it did two nights ago. Rory half was eager to get back to Seattle because it means getting out of the car. Half of her heart is anxious to know this magical getaway coming to an end.

She didn't know which Logan she's meet in Seattle on Monday.

"No. Get out of the car." Logan disconnected his phone from the sound system. The car door soon slammed behind him.

Oh, she hates when he does that thing when he takes the lead and expects her to follow. She glances at the clock digits displayed in the car.

"Logan, what the hell! We're going to miss the Ferry." She goes around the front where he's trying to set his phone still.

"And?" He grabs her hand and twirls her closer. His eyes are glinting with a challenge.

Rory's lips stretch into a lovesick smile when the first bass notes play, and Van Morrison's drawl kicks in in Moondance. Maybe Kate was only jokingly quoting Taylor Swift, but it doesn't change the fact that Taylor knows what she's talking about.

He takes her hand and drag her head-first fearless.

"It's not October."

"I can't tango either. Just shut up."


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: Hello Readership. Thank you for comments on and off the review section. I enjoy being part of your journey as you read this story so much. Your engagement is just purely amazing. __Score&Reference list will be up in the comment section._

_So Rory got all her birthday dreams come true. Maybe it time for new dreams? __Some of you were waiting for the boy to make an appearance. I'm sorry to say that he was there all along."Just because other people can't see - it doesn't mean it's not there."_

_You might need to refresh your mind on chap. 6 to 10, 21, 23 for this. Remember that conversation and the words characters use - are super important. Some characters roles are more meaningful than others, even if they are not at center stage. I know it might get confusing at times, but it's so much fun! _

* * *

**October 2013**

_**Seattle**_

"So I told Michel he has to answer guest's questions from _booking dot com_, just like he answers the phone."

"Snippy and rudely?" Rory moved around various items in her living room in frustration. She should keep the place tidier. And do the laundry. Where are they? She was sure they were just there.

"It's a work in progress. It's not like I let the man comment on reviews."

"Excellent micro-management, Mom. Where is it?" Rory muttered distractedly.

"What are you looking for? I can help!" Lorelai suggested enthusiastically.

"Batteries."

"What do you need batteries for?"

"A flashlight?" Rory said, the first thing that comes to mind.

"Is the power out?" Lorelai wondered.

"No."

"Are you going on a monster hunt?" Lorelai questioned again.

"No?"

"Then why do you need a flashlight?"

"I need batteries." Rory corrected.

"Yes, and I asked what for? You said flashlight. But it turns out you don't need a flashlight for the obvious reasons." Lorelai chattered back. "Should I continue guessing? it's kinda fun. Uh! I can do it like Jeopardy! Is it a flashlight?"

Rory sighed, "If you must. It's not like you're helping."

"Oh! Ah! It's for your Discman!" Lorelai cat called, "Chris! Rory is using her Discman!"

"Mom! What's wrong with you? You can't tell him that!" Rory splattered, horrified, "I'm not telling you anything anymore."

It wasn't for her Discman; it was for her 'Logan Rocket.'

"Ha-ha! Gotchya! I can't believe you fell for that. Have I thought you nothing?" Lorelai relished on pulling the dirty out of her daughter. "Your dad's not home. Gigi has Ballet. Technically, you didn't tell me anything - I guessed. So, that's the plan for your birthday? A rocket launch? A little self-loving?"

"You're disturbed." Rory said, "No birthday plans. I'm going to take a long relaxing bath, put on some relaxing music, and dive into bed with a good book."

Her co-workers preferred to hit a spa on the weekend instead of partying. Logan was in New York. That reduced her to party with herself tonight. She looked at last year's offensive gift and tossed the 'Logan Rocket' aside.

Sad. She needs to make more friends.

"Or a private party for one with a girl's best friend." Rory could imagine her mother wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Mom!"

"Hey, it's certified fact. I read it on Cosmo. But I am waiting with bated breath to hear all about the rocket launch exprience. Please don't shut Mommy out on the good stuff."

"Ew, Mom. We're close, but that's not happening."

"But I live through you!" Lorelai sing-songed, "Maybe I should tell your dad I want one for Christmas."

"You are disgusting."

**Xx**

Rory rushed towards the phone, tying the towel tighter around her body. Water dripped from her hair not yet dried from the bath. Her caller ID didn't recognize the number. Probably some more well-wishers.

"Hello." She hoped her voice didn't sound too out of breath.

"Shit. I didn't wake you, did I?" She'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"No. It's fine. I wasn't asleep." Rory slowly sat on the bed in her towel. Changing would only sound suspicious on the phone. A stack of books she planned to read sat at the bedside table. The signed copy of 'Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close' laid on top of the pile. The rocket still rested abandoned on the bed, where she discarded it in disdain earlier—staring back at her.

"So… Happy birthday."

Rory thanks him. It's all a coincidence, she told herself. It means nothing that she surrounded herself on her birthday with a selection of things he gifted her.

"I know it's late, I'm sorry for not calling sooner. Texting seemed cold. I didn't want to call while you're at work, and then this wine and dine thing got too late. I just got in." Logan rambled on the other end of the line.

She imagined him in the setting of the Greenwich Village apartment. Barefoot, and pulling on his tie.

"Was it as good as last year? Big party?"

That's not all that happened on her birthday last year. She knows, he knows. Logan doesn't ask unintentional questions. He is fishing.

"No party. I'm skipping the whole embarrassing and inappropriate gifts too. Don't get me any." She said, distractedly rotating the offending item in question in her hand. It's been on her mind all day. But when she inserted the batteries in it earlier, she got spooked. "And don't make Natalie do it either."

"I wasn't planning on asking Natalie to do anything for your birthday." Logan's voice flows smoothly on the phone. "What's that noise?"

"Nothing." Rory dropped the vibrating rocket on the bed like it was a hot potato. Stupid batteries.

She accidentally turned it on.

"I'm sure I heard something buzzing."

"Nothing's buzzing." Rory tried to sound calm as she fumbled with the device trying to quickly turn it off, while keeping a hold on the phone, "Maybe you need to get your ears checked."

"I do not. Huntzberger men have an impeccable hearing." She can hear the teasing smirk in his voice.

"First time for everything," Rory mutters sourly.

Logan just laughs. His voice sounds so crisp, inviting.

"So…"

"So…" She echoed his tune.

His voice dropped lower in a suggestive manner, "Um... Do you need me to talk you through it?"

Rory felt her mouth go dry.

**~w~**

* * *

"I'm going to skin whoever told him where to find that damned golf club. He hides it well." Shiri huffed in annoyance. Rory dug in her meal, trying to suppress an amused giggle.

The first thing Logan did on Monday morning post their Vancouver Island trip was uprooting his golf club out of the large plant pot standing by Shiri's desk. He saluted at Shiri, and marched into his office - madly grinning.

It was a war. Now that Logan was away, Shiri was looking to confiscate it again.

"Patel and I bet on what will be the next thing he smashes." Nicole swatted her chopsticks together. "He thinks the same wall. I think it's going to be his computer screen."

"My money is on the plant pot." Kate offered her bet.

"I'm dying to get my hands on that thing and his facial hair. Both need a trim." The office manager kept her mind on the earlier topic.

"I think the facial hair is sexy." Nicole offered.

"Oh, don't let your boyfriend hear you." Kate teased the editor.

"You think it's sexy too." Nicole accused the graphic designer.

"The difference is that my husband doesn't care." Kate pointed out to Nicole.

"Oh, it sure started sexy! He wears the rugged look well. Gotta love a man with a bit of facial hair, it spices up the stimulation, if you know what I mean." Shiri wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "But now, it just looks like he can't be bothered to shave."

"It does?" Kate's ear perked up. "Gotta try that one."

"You won't regret it!" Shiri nodded furiously, "Especially if the guy knows his moves. And let's face it, there's no way Logan doesn't know the moves. The man has the freshest mouth I've ever met."

_Yes. Logan has a magical mouth._

Rory clumsily dropped her chopstick, making the soy sauce squirt. She started frantically dubbing napkins on the table, trying to catch the black sauce from doing any more damage. "Can we not talk about Logan's sex life?"

"What's up with you?" Kate observed her friend.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing?" Kate didn't buy it, "You walk around all starry-eyed, you look like you swallowed a firefly, glowing from the within. I think I might need sunglasses here. That is not nothing."

Despite falling asleep exhilarated, Rory didn't feel glowing. She woke up feeling slightly ashamed and slightly uncomfortable. The hormones pills made her premenstrual cramps worse.

And it became worst when she stopped taking them.

"Where do you come up with these things?" Rory scrambles up the stained napkins into a ball.

"I don't 'come up with these things.' I call it as I see it."

"Kate is right. Did someone got some birthday love?" Shiri teased.

Nicole's interest peeked. "Did that Chip guy made a U-turn?"

"Someone's starship made a U-turn, but it wasn't Chip," Kate muttered under her breath.

"No, I didn't. I was soundly sleeping in my bed last night. Alone." Rory stressed.

All of it was true. It didn't count on the phone. Rory still can't believe she took him up on that offer.

"Ah-ah." Shiri said skeptically, "So if I check your phone, the last call on your phone log is not a guy?"

"No, it's my mom." Rory bite defensively. Her mom didn't fail to deliver her annual birthday call last night. And Logan called from the New York apartment phone. He was good at blurring digital footprints.

She made sure to delete the text message she got early this morning—something about dreams.

Rory changed the subject, "Are we still on for the spa?"

"Oh, yes!" Shiri said excitedly. "Wouldn't miss it for the world! Oh, what do you think about the Halloween party? Do you think Ben will agree?"

"Ben will tell you to take it up with Logan. Save your breath and just send Rory to do the dirty work." Nicole rolled her eyes, speaking from experience.

"Why me?" Rory nearly whined. "Don't get me involved with this."

She didn't want to be the pawn in their scheme to score an office-funded adult dress-up party. That sounded dirty. And she knows that's precisely where he'd take it if she's the messenger. Logan was keeping his hands to himself in Seattle, but last night proved he could work her with just words.

"He always agrees when _you_ ask," Nicole stated.

_"Master and commander."_

_"The movie?" Rory asked through the dazzled haze of satisfaction._

_"No, That's what I want you to call me from now on." She can hear his grin._

_"In your dreams." She quickly hanged up._

Rory involuntary shuddered, she can't allow herself to argue with him at the office sexually.

"Rory."

"What?" Rory snapped out of her unwanted daydream, straight into the office's manager's brown eyes. Kate looked at her suspiciously.

"Please. Please. Please."

"Not a chance in hell."

**~w~**

* * *

Logan pushed the supermarket cart leaning his forearms on the cart's handles. His golf club rested next to the grocery items in an odd mix. Whenever he goes to New York nowadays, he takes it home with him. It was not safe in the office.

Rory crossed another item on the list.

"Are we done yet?" Logan questioned, seizing the opportunity of her distraction to remove another food item filled with monosodium glutamate off the cart.

Maybe he should have second thoughts about having a baby with his woman. She had unhealthy eating habits.

"Nearly. I ran out of Shampoo."

Logan groaned under his breath, checking the time. The shampoo aisle was every man's worst nightmare. He was starting to regret suggesting to cook tonight's Monday dinner. A simple grocery run turned into an extended episode.

"Are you going to smell them all? Or can we cut it short and grab the same brand you already use?"

"I'm not gonna smell them all." She turned marching towards that part of the store, unpleased with his suggestion. The camera which hanged at her lower back hit his side as she moved.

He winced. That thing hurt. "Make it quick I'm starving."

Ten minutes later, Rory was still conducting an oral pro-con list on two brands of shampoo. She held them out to his inspection. "Which do you think is better?"

Logan looked up from his texting session. Zero desire to participate in this blown out of proportion debate. "Which one has the commercial with J-LO?"

"Neither." Rory looked as if she's considering to add another parameter to her pro-con list.

"Then, get that one." He threw the bottle she held in her left hand into the cart, "Can we go now?"

"But – "

"Rory, it's late." He cut her off, pointing at himself, "Man. Dinner. Hungry. If you can't decide if you want to use that one, you can take a shower at my place and use mine. Now let's bounce because, at this rate, I'm going to eat dinner at daybreak."

Wait - what?

Logan started pushing the cart down the aisle to make his point and cover his mouth-slip.

"Logan. Wait."

"What?" he sighed, tiredly stopping in his tracks and turning back at her. If she's going to name one more item, he's just going to leave. Rory walked right into him. He quickly moved to space the unplanned physical contact.

"I… I… think we need to buy a… home pregnancy test." Rory muttered shakily, looking a hint green.

His brain registered the products on the shelves changed from shampoos and soaps into feminine hygiene products. Another section he usually avoids.

"We do?" Logan asks, surprised. Logan spent most of his time in New York these days, working crazy schedules. Maybe it was for the best at the moment. Vancouver Island left him with the feeling that if push comes to shove, she's out. He kept his end of the deal with Monday's dinner. Hoping she'd keep hers.

They haven't been back to the doctor since missing the cycle in September. And they haven't active in that sense since…

Oh. That moment.

Rory looked anywhere but him. He was tempted to ask her which brand she preferred, then changed his mind. There's no way he's getting dragged into a comparative analysis of home pregnancy tests in the middle of the supermarket.

He grabbed the first one his hand randomly reached. "Sorted. Let's get going."

They all work the same anyway.

**Xx**

"You manipulated me." Rory's eyes are fixed on Logan's fingers drumming across from her. She doubts she can eat breakfast at her kitchen counter ever again. A stick she peed on rested on top of it— face down on a paper towel.

It was utterly off-putting.

Next to it, a timer counted down on Logan's phone.

"I beg your pardon?" Logan's fingers stopped tapping, "How did I manipulate you?"

"You are such a cad. You are freakingly unbelievable." Rory paces manically, "I tell you to fuck off, and instead of doing what I asked - you trick me on this unrealistically romantic, once in a lifetime getaway. Acting all gentlemen and considerate pulling me in so carefully…"

"Hey! I did not!"

"Gas station dancing! You used it against me." She sent him a dirty look and continue pacing, "That was your intention all along, wasn't it? Romance me enough so I'd sleep with you, just like in New York. All in serve of the grand plan to make sure you won't miss out on the cycle. I can't believe you! I can't believe you'd step this low to get what you wanted."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there! Don't twist it like that, that's not what happened. I wasn't doing anything of that sort. Not in New York, and certainly not on the Island. I didn't make any move on you the whole weekend. YOU jumped ME."

A whole perfect weekend. In the most beautiful location.

She just had to jump him in the backseat at the parking level of the ferry, didn't she?

How fucking romantic.

"You don't dare hang all the blame on me. I wasn't alone in that backseat!"

"Well, you started it, and sure as hell didn't stop it either, did you?" Logan counters hotly.

The timer went off with a shrill ring.

Rory's face turned sheet white, her hands fly to cover her eyes, "I can't look."

Logan sighed angrily. He flipped the little white stick in his hand, "Negative."

"Oh, thank god!" Rory's hands fly over her heart, relief washing over her.

Logan wears his silent disappointment face, stick still in hand. "I wanted to be the man I see in your eyes when you look at me. But I don't know what I do wasting my time with you."

His quiet tone is like a long needle penetrating her heart, "Logan."

"Don't bother, Rory." He throws the stick into the trash can, "You said enough."

**Xx**

"I'm sorry. I got cold feet." Rory holds out the golf club as a peace offering; he left it in the wake of his dramatic exit. She nearly lost her nerve to knock when she eventually found herself at his door.

She knows she got scared and picked up a fight.

"Get socks. Or call it off. I'm not your Yo-Yo." Logan takes back the ownership on the metal stick.

"Can I come in? We need to talk." She uses her best soothing voice to try and appease him.

"No." She didn't expect him to deny her this firmly, "I can't do this with you now. My sleeping pill is starting to kick in."

"Why would you take a sleeping pill at this hour?"

"Because my flight to New York leaves at 2:00 p.m. And there's stuff I need to do at the office before I leave. I can't stay up all night."

**Xx**

Logan and his golf club wait for her out of the ladies at noon. Logan wandering around with his golf club in and out of the office is never suspicious. He tilts his head towards the staircase. No one ever takes the stairs, but he takes extra caution and climbs one and a half set of stairs up.

"I wanted to check you're okay you before I leave for New York." He leans on the club awkwardly. It's a different kind of club from the bag. She vaguely remembers her grandfather saying this is the one you use to hit the ball out of the sand.

Rory simply crosses her hands over her chest. He can't shut down her advances and then come playing the knight.

"Rory." His hand tentatively touched her elbow. Logan's eyes search for prying eyes before he steps closer.

"What?"

"Talk to me." He urged softly.

"Now? Here? In the ten minutes before you take off to New York? Why? Because your mind is lucid enough now, and _you_ feel like it? What for? So you'd give me your silent disappointment face?" She averted her eyes when the familiar expression crept back on his face.

She's oblivious to the poisoned arrows she loads in her arc.

Logan took a stilling breath, leaned into her personal space, and pressed a chaste kiss at the side of her head. "We'll talk when I get back. It'll give us both time to cool off."

He leaves with the wedge in hand.

Rory sat on the stairs rubbing her temples. She should just quit.

**~w~**

* * *

"Which Spice Girl are you suppose to be?" Ben took a stand beside her, backing the wall. He refused to jump on the holiday spirit other than lending his house for the cause.

Shiri has won her way with the party mostly because Logan wasn't around to do the arguing for Ben. It turns out Ben's wife is an avid Halloween fan. Priscilla didn't spare the decoration at all; the house was nearly caving under the weight the appropriate spider webs, carved pumpkins, skeletons, bats, ghosts, and other scary stuff.

"Marianne Faithful." Rory refused to dress up like a Spice Girl.

She bailed on the group costume Shiri and Kate excitedly promoted for Halloween.

Shiri rocked her Scary Spice loud and proud. Nicole committed to cutting her hair like Posh. Kate made a point to tell everyone she's dying her hair red and that she'd be wearing the Union Jack dress she ordered from e-bay to work. Rory nearly chocked when they suggested she'd be Baby Spice at lunch.

The B-word makes her throat burn as if she swallowed acid.

Her costume ended up needing a blonde wig anyway. And a mini. And innocent looking fishnets. When she showed up tonight, Kate cheered and said she looked the part.

"Tragic life story. Great voice until she ruined it." Ben comments before taking a sip out of his beer.

Most adults are on some level of drunk by this point of the night. Kate monopolized Logan's dancing moves the moment she noticed him. At least he was putting his Hartford dictated dancing lessons to good use. Even if it was with her drunken friend in the middle of Ben's living room. On the other side of the room, Kate's husband, looked happy to be excluded from duty.

Rory snaps the picture of Kate happily laughing when he dips her and Logan's amusement of her reaction.

"Happy Logan is my favorite Logan." Ben says simply at her side, "Lose the wig. You look like Chelsea when you wear it. It's freaking him out."

Rory sighed, removed the blonde wig, and let her dark hair loose. If she was in doubt whether Ben is in the loop, she has none now. "How am I supposed to know? It's like navigating a minefield."

Ben shrugs.

Logan Huntzberger can make Rory Gilmore scream in frustration.

He kept his surgical distance from the moment he stepped through Ben's door. Straight from New York. Because that's what he does in work-related settings, and because they are taking time to 'cool off.'

Rory felt like he sent her to sit in the 'time out' corner to think over of her actions.

Next to her, Ben remains standing against the wall in a lull of cordial silence.

"Let me tell you a story about a boy."

Rory lowered her camera and turned to look at her boss. His eyes still fixed at the dancing pair.

"He makes it all look effortless, doesn't it? Every time people look at him, they must think that he have it real easy. A golden boy. The boy who has it all." Ben adjusts his glasses, weighing his words. "He kinda does. Except, the girl he was madly in love with, didn't like what he had to offer, and had serious issues."

Rory plays with the hem of her dress. She can't tell if this allegory aimed for the past or future. Honestly, from the little information she gathered, Ben could mean either. But she's pretty sure he means Chelsea.

"There's a lot of pressure being the heir to a fortune. It's a blessing and a curse. And every day he wakes up, he doesn't want to be the king of the hill, the top of the list – he wants to be a wallflower. Every day he wakes up in Seattle is another day he succeeds."

"Is that why he doesn't sleep?"

"Interesting. Never thought about it that way." Ben admits.

"He wanted to be an Astronaut."

"Yeah, Logan would have a keen space cadet." Ben smiles. "The problem with Logan, He doesn't cut out to be a wallflower. He wasn't made that way. He's a magnetic force, and it's impossible not to notice the minute he walks in the room. He gets that from his father. Those are some strong genes."

Every Huntzberger Rory has had the chance to encounter had this trait.

"He wouldn't make an outstanding space cadet, either. He doesn't take orders very well, and he likes to bend the rules too much. It's how he is built." Ben muses.

"Ben -"

Ben looks her square in the eye for the first time. "People like Logan don't usually don't take a shine for people like us. The observant at the back of the room. Logan's different."

Usually, when Ben catches her for a 'friendly talk,' she ends up being warned. Rory can't help but wonder what his ulterior motive is.

"But once he takes a shine to you, Logan is like the stray cat your kid took home from the street. You aren't sure you want to keep him, because he's high maintenance. But he keeps coming around until you kind of get used to him, even start to like him. Then, he charmingly weasels his way in, and you let him climb the couch."

It's evident Ben is speaking from experience. Rory is amused at the analogy; it sounds like just like him.

"The next thing you know, he's coming over to dinner every Thursday, and sleeping on your couch when a truck ran over his heart." Ben sighed after this long mouthful; it's probably the longest she ever heard the man speak, "Except, he doesn't sleep. He mopes and watches movies. "

Rory did wonder where all of the movie references come from.

"And I'm sick of Jerry Maguire playing on repeat on my television screen."

"He's obsessed with that movie."

"He relates to the drowning of a charismatic man concept." Ben offers, "Look, I don't know exactly when Logan decided this thing with you has potential and worth taking the risk. But I'm up to speed with everything else."

Rory lowered her eyes back to her camera. She knows when - when she didn't need the rope.

"I can't fight him on this anymore. What I'm trying to say, I don't care who is at fault here, just cut him some slack because he's willing to try and make it work in pretty impossible circumstances. And he's fighting all fronts at once, including his demons. So if you're in - you need to give him a little something to reassure him that it's worth his while. And fight whatever yours are."

Rory pressed her lips unhappy with the parental scolding.

"Either that or cut him loose. Chelsea de-railed him completely, and you have the same potential. I see it flashing in front of my eyes, and it worries me. It worries Mitchum, too. I'm sure Colin is stocking up whiskeys as we speak. I can't stand by and watch it happen all over again."

"What do you mean?"

Ben sighed, "Rory, do you know why Logan came back to Current?"

"Because you asked him to."

"Mitchum knew that he'd agree if it were me who asked. Logan had no intention to come back to the States. He was comfortable in London."

Rory remembered Colin said he didn't know what London stands for. But Ben came up with the STAR theory. Ben must know.

"Seattle was temporary." Ben explains, "Logan was never supposed to stick around in Seattle for longer than four months. Mitchum wanted him back in New York once my maternity leave was over."

_'New York is End Game for me.'_

"But you showed up and shuffled the cards. Neither of us accounted that wild card in."

"Me?"

"You got to him first. Logan contemplating whether he should call a one-night stand who crashed his set-up date? That was the last thing I expected when I met him for breakfast the next day."

The night at the Thompson. That night with Logan was what brought an end to her affair with Jason.

"He never cared about seeing one-night love affairs again before; it was refreshing. I liked seeing him like that after Chelsea. Then you walked in the office and -" Ben looked nearly remorseful, "You should have seen the look on his face when I told him he couldn't."

"His silent disappointed face."

"Chelsea used to describe it that way too," Ben said thoughtfully.

Rory felt the needle back in her heart. She stepped right on that landmine.

"Word of advice, don't ever tell Logan he can't do something. He doubles down, and it backfires. He hates missed opportunities."

Oh, she knows.

"I know you don't care, but Current is at its growth stage. There is a lot of money at stake—a 3.7 million dollar deal. I need Logan focused. But and most of all, I need Logan happy."

"And Mitchum?" Rory asked hesitatingly. Ben was remarkably candid tonight.

"Mitchum," Ben sighed, "Mitchum doesn't want to lose Logan again. The man only knows tough love, but Logan is the apple of his father's eye."

"Again?"

"Mitchum is trying to avoid third time a charm. Logan walked out on the family business when Mitchum sent him to London the first time." Ben paused, "There's only one person, other than Logan, who knows what really went down the second time. But it was close. I never got the full version."

Rory can't help but be curious, "Who?"

"Mitchum." Ben took a swig of his beer. "They must have some kind of deal to let him stay. He won't risk it."

"That man scares me."

"I'd give a kidney to spend the rest of my life without speaking to Mitchum Huntzberger ever again." Ben is surprisingly candid tonight, "Look, Mitchum doesn't get involved in Logan's love life unless Logan asks. And Logan only asked him once - when he divorced Chelsea. And the only reason he did is to save Current."

Rory catches her boss's eye.

"I owe that man the life I built for myself and my family. And I love him like a brother." Ben nods at his blonde business partner, now dancing with Miella. Logan let her stand on his feet. "He can get you to places like never before. Places you've never place you've never been and never expected to be. But you already know that."

Logan Huntzberger makes girls swoon starting a very young age. Rory nods for a lack of better response.

"Rory."

He blue eyes snapped back at the tall man.

"Don't kick the cat." Ben said quietly.

"Why are you helping me with this?"

"I'm parenting two kids and a Logan. I'm happy if he's happy. And I want my couch back."

**~w~**

* * *

The conversation with Ben drove her outside to the stairs of Ben's back porch. It's raining. It always rains in Seattle. She hears his footsteps before she feels him take a seat beside her holding a small reusable carry bag.

"Trick or treat?"

"Trick." Rory gambles on the challenge curious at what up his sleeve.

Logan dips in hands into the bag and holds out his fists for her to choose. His right opens to reveal a mini-mini Mars bar.

"That's the trick? What's in your other hand?" she asks, a tad disappointed.

Another tiny Mars bar materialized in his other palm. "That's for me. You're terrible at sharing."

"No joint?" She accepts the candy.

"I'm not allowed to bring that stuff here. I value my life."

"I see you begged, stole, and borrowed?"

"I never beg." He winks. "Don't tell Miella I've raided her candy bag."

"Her hard earned 'trick or treat' candy. I doubt she'll stay mad at you for long." Rory shakes her head. Bantering with Logan can be so easy and quick-paced until they get to the heart of things.

And it's coming. Rory can tell.

"A man can never know for sure." He says chewing on the candy bar.

"What would have happened if I picked a treat?" Rory plays with the plastic wrapper in her hand.

"I guess you'll never know." The flirty smile on his lips tells her she should have chosen the treat.

"What else you've got there?"

Rory shoved her hand into the candy bag, fishing for another candy. Concealed out of sight, Rory feels her fingers entwine with his inside the sea of candy.

His dimple flashes at her warmly.

"Someone could see." She whispers at him.

"Everyone's drunk." Logan reassures her, "Ben's spying on us since the moment I've stepped out, but he knows anyway. What did you talk about?"

Nothing escapes him.

"Wallflowers and cats." Rory answers. Two can play this game of need to know basis. "How was New York?"

"Unexciting." His thumb brushes the back of her hand inside the bag. Logan didn't want to talk about New York. Logan never wants to talk about New York.

"Only a month to go." She'd miss the phone sex.

"Yes. One more month."

"Then, you're here permanently?"

"That depends." It depends because it at odds with the New York end game. Always on a need to know basis with Logan.

"On?"

"You."

"Is this an ultimatum?" She asks.

"I'm hoping it won't be." There's a raw honesty in his answer. Their last conversations and her little context infusion chat with Ben have made it clear that if she's out, he's walking away. For good. Back to New York.

Ben laid out the ground for Logan to close the deal; it's the way this duo worked. Or the way Logan worked his support system. Colin did the same.

"I called the clinic to make an appointment." Rory says quietly, "I might need to borrow some socks."

She already called two days ago, but she wanted to tell him in person.

"I got a drawer full. Take your pick. Any but the crocodiles ones, those are my favorites." He smiles easily, "Are you sure?"

"Sometimes, I feel like I don't know. Sometimes I feel like checking out." She hesitates, "Half of my heart got a grip on the situation; half of my heart takes time."

Rory Gilmore is not Lorelai. Lorelai charge at goal headstrong. Like Logan. It's just the way L's are.

Rory realizes her dad was right. There's so much of him in her, more than she'd like to admit. She's a Christopher. She wants the kid only if she gets his father.

"It doesn't have to be a sprint; it can be a marathon." His hand squeezes her among all the candy.

The half of her heart is so happy to hear him say that. "I'm not driftwood. I'm a kite."

"You're a pretty kite."

"Can I trade the rope for a string?" Rory looked down at their joined hands. Rory doesn't need an exit route; she needs a safety net. A strong, flexible one. She's bravest when she holds his hand.

"An invisible string." He agrees. It doesn't soothe her.

"I'm giving you everything," all that joy can bring, "And all that I want from you is a promise you'll be there." She's not asking; she's bargaining with him.

"Rory, that is all I can give right now. You know where I stand. You have it in writing. We've been through this."

Yes, the baby thing she has in writing. She's frustrated with him. "Why can't you meet me halfway?"

"I am meeting you halfway. I don't want that aspect in ink. Ink complicates things." Logan insists. "People always want me to be what they want me to be. I just want to just _be_. Can we not define it just yet, okay?"

"What are you scared of?"

"It's not that I'm scared," Although the truth is that he is terrified, "It's just that it's delicate. Just because other people can't see - it doesn't mean it's not there, Rory."

Damn him and his gifted way with words. He got her Huntzbergered.

"Which a Spice Girl are you suppose to be?" His dimples flash at her again.

"Baby Spice." She answers unhappily. No one got her costume.

"Never been a fan of white fishnets before, but it's growing on me." Logan docks his head cheekily. His hand slides on her covered leg, fingers tracing the fishnets gently. His touch makes her skin burn. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Going on this adventure with me."

"That's it? Thank you?" A smile plays on her lips; vulnerable Logan is her favorite Logan. For her eyes only. It's when he unknowingly, completely wins her heart.

"Well, I'm not done yet. But I can't kiss you here. Ben will have an aneurysm."


	29. Chapter 29

_**November 2013**_

_**Seattle**_

The woman in the red dress is constantly caressing her swollen stomach. Rory averts her eyes, trying not to stare. Next to her, Logan is sitting crossed legs, engrossed in a magazine. He came back from New York last night, especially for this.

A giggling bashful couple caught her attention next. The blonde woman smooths her skirt. They came from where the private rooms are—the sample collection room.

"Are they allowed to do that?" Rory found herself wondering at loud despite herself.

Logan looked up from the article comparing baby hiking gear. His eyes followed her line of vision, watching the man squeeze his partner's behind. "Demonstrate PDA?"

"They just came out from there…" Rory gestured her head discreetly towards the private rooms in the back.

"That happens a lot," Logan continued to flip the pages unfazed.

"Don't they have porn in there? Like movies or Playboy magazine?"

"They do."

"Do you? when you 'you know' in there..?"

"Watch porn when I masturbate into a plastic cup?" Logan offers casually. He knows that stating it will embarrass her. Sometimes Rory thinks he does it on purpose. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

Rory turns beet red.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye, a smirk playing on his lip. There's no way in hell that he's going to tell her.

Awkwardness takes over. Logan went back to reading his article. Rory flexes and points her toes inside her boots and leans her head back on the wall - Waiting. She can't say she missed this waiting room. She picks up a magazine following Logan's lead and flips the pages loudly.

"Does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" Her head snaps up at the sudden sound of his voice.

"The procedure." Logan clarifies. Another side look.

"You don't feel anything." She turns another page. Avoiding eye contact is best.

"It's like a regular check-up, just weirder. I mean, it's not like I do anything. I just lay there on my back, legs spread and up in the air, and they do their business with the tube up my…" Rory shudders even though the room is warm. "Honestly?it's just fifteen uncomfortable minutes where I just close my eyes and try not to think about stuffed turkeys."

Logan shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "I thank you for this visual. I think you have just officially ruined the upcoming holiday for me."

"Hey, you asked."

"I now wish I hadn't."

**~w~**

* * *

The sky looked grim on Wednesday night before Thanks Giving. Delays in flights were already announced when they reached security. With one glance at the departure board, Logan marched with intent straight towards the lounge. Despite Rory's protests.

She hates the moments where he leads and leaves her no choice but to follow.

"How many frequent flyers miles you have?" Rory asks.

"A lot." Logan smiled charmingly at the ground hostess handing out his black credit card.

"How much is a lot?" Rory doesn't miss the flirty eye the female hostess send his way. The kind reserved for a man who looked like Logan. Who carried a credit card like Logan's.

"I'll have to ask Natalie for the exact number." He answers.

"Perfect. Enjoy your stay. This way, Sir." The hostess flashed her Mega-Watt smile at Logan. She completely ignored Rory.

"She wants to bed you." Rory felt his hand guiding her along into the stylish waiting space spotted with couches, a bar, a small buffet, and less fluorescent light. Nothing like the gate's sitting chairs. "You really don't know?"

That's what life with Logan Huntzberger looked like. Benefits just materialized with just a quick swift of his credit card. He seemed so unfazed by it.

"I'm not interested. I'm not George Clooney; I never thought it was important that I'd know." He answers.

Rory can't quite place what not interested stands for. "George Clooney?"

"You know the film where he plays a man whose job is to fire people? He's obsessed with his frequent flyer miles. I thought it was sad. Come to think of it - It's a depressing movie." Logan responded.

"Ha. Have you fired people?"

"Yes. I wouldn't mind having a private Satellite like George does, though. That's pretty cool."

"Are you for real?"

"Yes. It monitors south Sudan for civil rights violations." Logan fishing out his ringing phone and sighed at the caller ID. "It's my dad. I have to take this."

**Xx**

"The whole board is delayed." Rory stood looking worriedly at the flight board displayed on the screen in the passenger lounge.

"It happens." Logan's voice is unfazed.

"I'm never going to make it in time." Rory muttered, "I can't believe I let you talk me into booking a flight to New York and drive down instead of landing straight in Hartford."

"I didn't talk you into it. I suggested, and you said yes." He corrected her calmly. Logan never looked up. His phone continuously pinged with incoming messages throughout her rant. He was furiously typing.

Rory tapped her foot. She did. Spending a day in New York sounded like a good idea. She had places to go and people to see. It was an opportunity… And that might all go down the drain if the flights are late.

Plus, when he suggested it, it felt like an underlaying promise for an adventure. Rory needed a wrinkle in time. But mostly, Rory needed a transition period between Seattle and the Gilmore Thanks Giving show-down.

She was going to tell them.

"It's nearly the same travel time, if not quicker, considering you need a connection in Atlanta or Chigaco to get to Hartford," Logan answered eventually. However, he didn't know why he bothered; nothing got through Rory when she worked herself into jitters. "Make it in time where?"

"I'm going to miss the town's musical. Mom is going to be furious. Actually, no, she's not going to be furious, she's going to sulk, which is much much worse."

"The town's musical?" Amusement crept into his voice. Rory wished he'd look at her so she could see the curious twinkle in his eye.

"Yes, it's on Thursday night. Mom got the leading part this year. And let me tell you – Stars Hollow is a tough crowd. I'm in serious trouble if I don't make it down in time to wish her 'break a leg' before the show."

"Hmm."

"Are you working?"

"IM-ing. You do know today's Wednesday?" He glanced her way, briefly. Rory's blue eyes narrowed at him. He returned to his phone.

"Who are you IM-ing?"

"Natalie." He answered simply. "I'm sure she'll understand, she knows you can't control the weather. You're not a rain-maker."

"Have you met my mother? Did she seem normal to you?"

"Several times. And I rather not say. She went into business with Finn." Logan went back to his phone.

"My mother smells snow, Logan. It does not mean she's a huge fan of meteorology."

"Meteorology is fun." Rory rolled her eyes at his response. Of course. He just admitted he wanted to own a satellite, what did she expect?

"You're not taking this seriously." Rory snatched the device from his hands.

"Honestly? No. We're swimming in time. There's nothing I can say that can help the matter." He reached out his hand, expectingly, "Can I have my phone back? I'm actually doing something important."

"Like?"

"Work stuff." She reluctantly gave him back his phone. Which he finally pocketed, "Why are you stressing out about this holiday?"

"The Stars Hollow musical is a pretty big deal. It's a tradition. They do it every year."

"And will probably do it again next year. Hence it's called tradition," Logan pointed out. "It's just a play. Ask your dad to videotape it."

Rory looked like she considered the idea for a moment. Then she shook her head furiously. "It's not just a play. You don't get it."

"No, I really don't." Logan edged the pacing girl closer by the strap of her camera.

Rory found herself standing over him between his spared legs, his rested hands on her hips. What is it with men and sitting with their legs open?

"I have to be there. I _have_ to be there because I wasn't last year, and I promised I'd be this year. I haven't seen my mom for so long; we have so many plans. There's the musical and the dinner at the inn after the show. On Friday we're going to scout for Christmas presents. And we have dinner at my grandparents – because we can never get out of Friday's night dinner. Then, on Saturday, we were going to just hang at Luke's and maybe do a movie marathon with dad and GiGi. We're all going to each have our pick." Rory rambled. "And we were going to plan Christmas. What tree we're gonna have, what's the decoration theme will be this year…"

"Sounds like a lot of planning." Logan hummed, trying to follow the string of words.

"So you see – I have to be there early. Because if I'm there one time, everything will go just as planned and Lorelai be happy. And if she's happy, she's going to react so much better when I tell her." Rory worried her lip with her teeth.

"When you tell her…?" Logan was lost.

"When I tell her about this." Rory gestured between them. That finally got his full attention.

"You haven't told her yet?" Logan's hand tagged on the camera strap again, trying to lower her onto his lap.

"No." She resisted. One hand flying to protect the camera, the other placed on his shoulder, fighting to steady herself.

"Does your Dad know? Do the Gilmores know?"

"No. And god no."

"Why not?"

"It's not exactly something you casually drop in a phone conversation. And I didn't know what to tell her. Or them." And Lorelai is not going to take it well. Rory silently added in her mind.

"About?"

"About us. I still don't."

"You're not going to throw up just thinking about it, right? Because you're starting to look a little green. maybe we should take this conversation closer to a washroom.." Logan eyed her worriedly.

Hurling seemed to be Rory's reflex reaction when her nerves got the upper hand.

"I'm not going to throw up, Logan."

"Just checking." He said, finally succeeding to load her into his lap.

"What are you doing? We're in public. Someone will see us." She tries to squirm away, but his hands confidently slide the camera out of the way to hang from her back.

Rory never in her life imagined to saddle a man on a couch in the business lounge. Let alone Logan Huntzberger. But here she is. Her blue jeans are contrasting his slacks.

"No one here cares. Or knows us." The dimples that hide in his beard flash at her. Rory deep down wishes he'd shave it off.

Her fingers instinctively rub the loose fabric of his open collar. "How did you do it? How did you tell your parents about this? What words did you use? I mean, what did you say? What did they say?"

"I just told my father that you and I are going to have a baby." His thumb draws circles on the skin between her jeans and her t-shirt.

"And?"

"He asked if I called the lawyers and said that you must attend his birthday party. End of story. I told you he doesn't get involved."

To be honest, it didn't go as straight forward and business-like as he just described. But Logan figured it was better to spare her the bloody fight about the re-reconstruction of the Huntzberger's dynastic plan. It seemed irrelevant now that his father was bizarrely enough, quite pleased with the idea of Rory.

And the plan in general.

"And your mom?" Rory bites her lip, contemplating.

"I don't know what he told her exactly. But I'm sure they run out of Treasurer cigarettes in Hartford that day." Logan said flippantly. It was how his mother's coping mechanism worked.

Mitchum inquired on behalf of his mother if they should expect Rory's company at the dinner table. Logan's answer was a firm no. He wanted the Rory interaction to go according to his terms.

"Oh. That's a bit extreme."

"My mom's a stress smoker, that's mild. When I divorced Chelsea, she checked herself into a spa in Arizona."

Rory was momentarily surprised at the little tidbit thrown her way so casually. She was sure the C topic was out of limits, and there he was just breezing through it.

"Do you want me to be there? When you tell her?" Rory was startled to feel his other hand on her thigh. Blue eyes snapped to brown.

Rory felt a sudden wind blow in her sails. She is far too aware this physical closeness soothe her. Damn, he is good at acting semi-boyfriend. He nearly made it sound like they were a united front—a false sense of normality.

Doing this together, that could be nice. Then, Rory remembered Lorelai wasn't Logan Huntzberger's biggest fan. It was kind of him to offer, but she needs to do this alone. Fight her demons, and all that.

"God, no. That would only make things worse."

"Okay." He squeezed her knee, smiling lightly. Only seconds pass before he pulls her closer, and she finds herself locked in an intensifying kiss.

"Logan." She whimpers when they break apart, "You can't just do that."

"Why not? I just did, and you liked it." He smiles cheekily. "You might want to call you mom and say you might going to be late. I checked the weather - all flights are delayed until tomorrow morning."

"You're kidding." Rory's eye boggled out, flying to the board. It can't be canceled! There goes her big meeting in New York tomorrow morning.

"The whole board is red, baby partner. You're spending the night in Seattle."

**~w~**

* * *

_**New York**_

"Enough about me. How have you been? Still doing the wedding thing?" Hugo throws the conversation ball into her court.

The café' near Penn Station was bustling with activity fit for its central location. It was the perfect location for under the radar meet up.

"No, not anymore."

"Still at Current?" Hugo clicked his pen twice.

"I am."

"A deal with James Parker, not bad. A big whale. I see the young Huntzberger continues to work his magic."

"I'm not sure what you mean." Rory played innocent.

"Logan Huntzberger went off the grid for a few years, but it looks like he's kicking up a storm at the digital end of the Huntzberger group as CTO. The whole town is talking about it. He was on fire at the Huntzberger gala. I understand you were in attendance; I'm so sorry I've missed you."

"So am I."

Hugo smiled slyly at her, "How is my friend Benjamin Attwood? Is he treating you alright? Now that you've caught his golden firefly."

"He's good."

"Shoot for the stars you might land on the moon. That's Huntzbereger's motto. I didn't think you have in you, Gilmore. Not what I had in mind when I sent you Ben's way. It's always the quiet ones." Hugo tapped his pen on the table as if to make a point, "So, what brings you to New York?"

"It's Thanks Giving."

"Obviously."

"Off the record?" Rory asked the reporter. He might be her old boss but still a reporter none the less—a well connected one.

"Sure."

"I might be looking for a job or an agent."

Hugo looked at her skeptic, "You have the ear of a media mogul in the making, and you turn to me for a job and guidance? I'm flattered."

"I'm keeping that separated. And discreet." Whatever she and Logan were - they weren't what he assumed they were.

"Press? or something else?"

"Just scouting and putting feelers out there at the moment. Nothing in particular. I've been trying to break into the stills film photography for a while."

"Alright. I'll keep an eye and an ear open." Hugo agreed, "So what else have you been working on?"

"This and that," Rory answered vaguely.

"Oh come on, Gilmore. I know you. There's always a side project where you are concerned. You're just too scared to leap into the water. Describe this. Describe that."

Rory tapped her fingers on the white map, "I might have been toying around with comics."

"Comics? Like your own version of Wonder Woman?"

"No. A more mature content."

"Mature like that Anime porn comics?"

Rory twisted her face in disgust. "No. Just everyday, every girl kind of comics. It took a backseat with the film stills photography I was doing. It's worth shit, really."

"Says who?"

"The Facebook community. Ben."

"I'm intrigued. You had Ben look it over?" She nods.

"Yeah. Ben thinks it's jumbled, but said it could use another eye. You came to mind as worth consulting; I was around so…" She ends her explanation with a shrug.

Hugo opens the blue browser on his phone, "Gilmore, I don't have all day. Load it up."

Fifteen minutes later, Rory was mindlessly stirring the plastic stirrer in the leftover foam of her cappuccino. Across from her, Hugo hummed and tutted. His eyes are scrolling the electronic page on his smartphone.

"Tut, tut." Hugo clicked his tongue and his pen a couple of times. "Shame Ben didn't make you run this by Logan. He would have made good with this."

Rory lowered her eyes. Her pride, among other things, prevented her from running this by Logan.

"Well, what done is done. Do you have any prints with you?"

Rory nodded, setting a copy of the comics manuscript on the table.

"Excellent." The reporter looked at a selected strip, "You always knew how to convey the message with one perfect visual delivery. Glad to see you haven't lost your touch, it works better in print. Logan would have told you that. You, my girl, need to utilize your resources better."

"Thanks."

"Leave that with me."

"What's on your mind?" Rory felt the water.

"It's inconsistent. You need to stay on message. But I do think we can make something out of it. Can I run this by a few people?" Hugo said, taking his wallet out of the side of his jacket.

"Yeah, sure."

"Brilliant." Her former boss smiled, handing her a card, "Call Vinni for the film thing. She'll hook you up with the right crowd. She's a bit of a slush, but she's loveable."

"Thanks. I need to catch my train to Hartford." Rory stuck the card into her wallet, taking out some bills. This meeting has turned out better than expected.

"I'll foot this one, don't worry about it. I'll make Huntzberger buy me a proper dinner next time I see him. He's a good orderer." He winked at the ditzy girl packing her things.

Rory flashed him an embarrassed smile. There was no point denying it as long she wasn't flaunting it.

"We'll be in touch."

**~w~**

* * *

_**New England**_

"You are late." Honor graced him with a huff at the door. It was as if she been standing by the door, waiting for him to ring the bell.

"Fifteen minutes. Traffic was a nightmare." Logan defended himself to his sister.

"That's what you get for not taking the jet with dad."

"I take traffic for peace of mind anytime. Dad gets chatty."

"Oh, just come in already. They are horrible tonight. Mom, especially. I don't understand why she is usually happy when you come." Honor accompanies him through the entrance of Huntzberger mansion.

"Oh come on, it can be that bad." His sister is over-dramatic.

"It's like a morgue." Honor whispers back.

"Ah, look what the cat dragged in. No Rory tonight?" Mitchum greeted in jest, standing by the drinks' cart.

Logan eyed his father suspiciously. He knew she wouldn't be. He quickly scanned the room. No signs of distracting unsuspecting parties like his nieces, nephew or brother in law. "I'm not enough anymore?"

He walked into a trap.

"More than enough. You need a proper shave, Honey." Shira appropriately kissed her son's cheek, "We were just anticipating to meet the newest Huntzberger addition properly."

"Excuse me?" Logan shared a side look with his sister.

"Scotch, neat?"

"I know you like to joke around and tease us, Logan. But at the end of the day, I thought you understood your responsibility to this family. There is a way certain things are done in this family." His mother brushed imaginary pulp off his shoulder.

"Do you want to jump in on this one, dad?"

Mitchum smoothed his yellow tie. "Not in particular. I don't get involved."

"We have a deal."

"Now Logan, you don't have the best track record when it comes to girls not taking your name." Shira Huntzberger took a sip of her pre-dinner drink.

Honor gasped. Mitchum Huntzberger visibly flinched. His mother looked at him challenging, waiting for his argument. He's not going to give her the satisfaction.

"Where's Pheebs?" Logan asked with a clenched jaw.

"Up in your old room, she found the telescope." Honor directed him softly. He turned on his heel towards the stairs.

His mother followed, "Logan; you have to understand, you bring this girl to your father's party with no warning at all. Mitchum says you are calling her your future. We have to take this seriously. Logan! Come back here!"

He doesn't wait another minute. "Call me when dinner is served."

**Xx**

The Huntzberger code dictates that essential discussions are not conducted in front of the kids. Logan splits his attention between Pheobe's happy chatter, his food, and his never empty glass of wine. Thanks Giving dinner at the Huntzberger household wasn't this tense since Honor announced she is marrying down.

He can't bring himself to eat the turkey. Or the stuffing. The analogy is still fresh in his mind.

Once dinner is over, the heavy stench of taboo carries in the air from whatever corner his mother is chain-smoking. Mitchum disappeared in the office. Josh stepped out for air. Honor jokes that he sits in the car in the driveway wishing to go home.

"A5," Amelia called out the board location.

Amelia got the hang of Battleship pretty quickly after a short explanation. Logan is pleased. It's the second round of the game, and so far, she's close to her second win. Phoebe, Logan's co-contender, sits in his lap and is the sole responsible for their catatonic loss.

"Ha! MISSED!" Phoebe called excitedly and turned to Logan, "She missed by one!"

"You're not supposed to say that, Pheebs," Logan muttered under his breath.

"But she missed."

"She did. But now she knows the ship is somewhere around that square because you just told her." He explains, trying not to scold, "We just say hit or miss. Or you sunk my battleship."

"Don't let him cheat you, Amelia. Uncle Logan always cheats on Battleships." Honor advised her eldest child. She was bouncing Issac on her knee.

"We do not cheat! She missed the destroyer." Phoebe argued.

Logan pressed his fingers to his eyeballs, half in laughter half in frustration. Logan was a sore loser.

"Grandpa told me that I should sell each string bracelet I make for a dollar. He also said that if people want to choose a different color combination - I should charge them another dollar for it. What do you think?"

"That's one way to make money. Phoebe, it's our turn." Logan responded.

"When I grow up, I want to be like grandpa. He's smart. People always do what he says." Amelia revealed to Logan. "Grandpa said you are going to be just like him too."

Not if he had anything to say about it. Logan sneaked a confused look at his sister.

Honor shrugged. "I told you you were needed around."

"Grampy yells on the phone a lot," Phoebe told her sister. "When I grow up, I want to marry uncle Logan. Logan's fun. Do you have a ship in A6?"

Logan grinned at Honor, who shook her head.

Amelia looked at her sister craftily, "Missed! Do you have a ship in A6?"

"How did you know?" Phoebe wondered innocently.

Logan rubbed the side of his face again. Phoebe was revealing their ship's layout by reading out their board. She was too little to this game.

"You can't marry uncle Logan." Amelia placed a red pin in A6.

"Not now, but when I'm older."

"You can't. Family members can't get married. And besides, he's going to marry Rory." Amelia said knowingly.

"Yes, I can. And NO, he isn't." Phoebe passionately argued with her sister. She turned to Logan to back her argument, apprehensive, suddenly taken over by hesitation, "Are you?"

Logan felt a little hot. It's seemed like the evening's theme.

Three female eyes hanged on him. It was Honor he dreading most, he knew her curiosity runs deeper than her daughters' and their interests. His snake-y sister was gathering information for her investigation at a later date. He was sure of it.

"No one is getting married." He managed. He really wished she'd jump in on this one.

"You are not going to marry Rory? But you brought her to the Zoo. She passed the princess test." Amelia pointed out. Logan was slightly surprised at her sharp deduction. He also wondered what bribe his mother dangled to recruit her.

"No."

"Then what do you need her for?" Phoebe was even less politically correct.

"But how are you going to have kids? You are like old." Amelia questioned her uncle.

"Girls!" Honor gasped, horrified. Amelia just stepped on Logan's sore baby spot so bluntly. Phoebe was just mean. "We do not, I repeat - DO NOT - talk like that. We certainly do DO NOT ask questions like that. It's very, very rude and impolite. Apologize."

Phoebe bites her lips stubbornly.

"Sorry. You're not old." Amelia mumbled half-heartedly.

"Pheebs." Honor warned her daughter. "Please apologize to your uncle."

"I'm not sorry. I hate Rory!" The five years old jumped up and stormed off as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"She's jealous." Amelia rolled her eyes.

Honor looked at Logan apologetic. "I swear I don't know where she gets it from."

"Really? You don't know?" His sister should look in the mirror. "Should I go talk to her?"

"And say what exactly?" Honor questioned, "The birds and the tiara story colored her impressed. The message was loud and clear at the zoo, Logan, don't confuse her. It's tough to be knocked off the throne at the tender age of five."

"Logan, do you want to see my string bracelets? I'll let you pick the colors."

"Sure," Logan said distractedly.

"Prepare your wallet. She's going to clean you out." Honor warned her brother while stroking her baby's hair affectionately. Amelia bounced away to gather her crafts. "So, you want to tell me what's going on with you and the princess? Things looked hot and heavy in New York."

Logan sighed. This house was full of spies, and he didn't want to share. "It's complicated.

**~w~**

* * *

Lorelai's blue eyes gave her daughter the once over, again, and again. Her eyes traveled up and down her body, stopping at the middle part of her body.

Rory suddenly felt conscious. "What?"

"That's a nice dress. Are you going to wear it to grandma's tonight?"

"Thanks. I actually wasn't sure about it; I'm not sure it works." Rory blinked at her mother's reflection in the mirror of the dressing room.

Scouting Christmas presents turned into window shopping, which turned into actual shopping. Soon mother and daughter were piling clothes and sharing a dressing room to save time. Against store policy. Lorelai argued they are allowed because they practically look the same, and no one could tell.

"It's very grown-up and sophisticated. Your boobs are bigger than I remembered."

"No, they are not."

"I can totally see that they are. Are you wearing a push-up bra?"

"No."

"They look fuller. Turn to your side."

"Mom."

"Turn to your side; let me look at your profile. Did you get a boob job and didn't tell me?" Lorelai gasped, "Oh, you totally did! Is that why you haven't been home to visit mommy for the past six months? You are never allowed to borrow any of my clothes. You're going to stretch them."

"Mom, I didn't undergo any invasive treatment," Rory said. Okay, that might not be entirely accurate. However, the dressing room was certainly not the place to open the subject.

"Your boobs are way bigger than mine, Mom."

"Not anymore, they aren't."

**Xx**

"I'm going to tell you something. But when I do, you cannot say a word." Rory set the cup of coffee in front of her mother. They were sitting on her mother's couch, tasting different marshmallow brands to decide which would be best for the ultimate hot chocolate.

"Why not?" Lorelai wondered at loud.

"Because I don't wanna hear it."

"Hear what?"

"What you're gonna say."

"But how do you know what I'm gonna say?" Lorelai teased.

"Trust me, I know." Rory couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Hey, I say astonishing things. Inspirational quotes, for example - Did you know Marshmallow is the stuff dreams are made off? – that was me. Oh! I have been known to say things that have changed the course of history! like, 'Hugh, I know you're with Elizabeth Harley, but how about picking up a hooker tonight?' - Also me." Lorelai smiled smartly.

"Mom."

"Okay. Gees. Fine." Lorelai stuffed her mouth with a fist of mini-marshmallows to make a point.

"Logan and I are having a baby." Rory opted for the Logan approach. Clean, simple, rip it off like a band-aid. Straight to the point.

Lorelai nearly chocked on her marshmallow mouthful. "I beg your pardon?"

"You promised not a word."

"I never promised. Logan? Logan, who?"

"You know, Logan."

"Huntzberger?"

"Correct."

"Logan Huntzberger? Are we talking about the same Logan? Blonde, rich, about yay high, Finn's best friend, Logan?" Lorelai gestured with her hands.

"The same one." Rory hugged a pillow to her chest.

"Dumped you at the airport quoting Humphry Bogart - Logan."

"Yeah.." Rory moved uncomfortably.

"I'll see you when I'll see you – Logan?"

"Well, yes, but –"

"Logan! Your boss, Logan!"

"Yes."

"You're having a baby with Logan Huntzberger. Your boss."

"Now, I know things have started a little rocky…. But, Logan and I made a rational, conscious decision; we are going to co-parent." Rory is oddly relieved her mother has chosen to hang on that part of the news, but it's going downhill fast.

"Are you feverish? No." Lorelai pressed her palm against her daughter's forehead. "Did you hit your head on the way back from Seattle?"

"Mom, stop."

"But- "

"No. This is my decision, and I'm not changing my mind. And in time, you will be happy with this too."

"Happy? Happy?" Lorelai stuttered in anger sending the snacks flying as she stood, "In what world would I be happy about this? This was not meant to happen! I did everything I possibly can to prevent this from happening! You were meant to BE better me! You were meant to DO better than me! You were supposed to KNOW better. You were not meant to be the boss's piece of the side. And you were certainly never meant to get knocked up by some immature, irresponsible, undependable society boy! Great. Great. Just awesome, Rory. Stellar life decisions!"

"He did not knock me up!" Rory cried in defense, but Lorelai Gilmore is far too invested in her rant for it to get through.

"God! What is with you and that guy?!" Lorelai grabbed her head with her hands, "Is he that good in bed? I am starting to think I missed out on something not sampling spectacular Logan Huntzberger ride when I had the chance!"

"What do you mean when you had the chance?" Rory felt jealous juices climb up her throat.

"That boy flirts!" Lorelai cried defensive, "God Rory, have I taught you nothing? Nothing, at all? It might now be too late; we can still figure something out. How far along are you?"

"What… You have got to be kidding me. There's nothing to figure out."

"Look, Rory, take this advice from me, listen to my hard-learned lesson." Lorelai's tone turned serious, her hands pressed in a plea, "Once you have a kid with someone that someone is forever in your life. And it can get messy. Very messy. I don't regret anything. Nothing at all, I LOVED our life. I LOVE my life as it is. YOU are the BEST thing that happened to me. You know that! You don't have to do this; the world is different; you are different! You are not me."

"Mom! I'm not pregnant! - Yet."

"Wait – What?"

"As I said, Logan and I are going to co-parent. A lot of people are co-parenting nowadays."

"Co-parent. I'm sorry, how does it seem right to you?"

"Yes," Rory says with more certainty than she feels.

"Is this a new post-modernist term for boyfriend and girlfriend I'm not familiar with? Is that what's rocking out there on the west coast these days?"

"Logan is not my boyfriend. A lot of people are co-parenting these days. It's not unusual. You don't know because you never had to think about having kids!"

"You, Rory Gilmore, the girl who knows nothing about babies? Who is terrified of babies! Who was scarred for life by her half-sister's birth? Color me surprised! Rory if a kid is what you're after – and I don't see what's the rush – get a proper boyfriend or a sperm donor. Don't put more complications to that equation! Don't get tangled up some guy who…."

"Like you did?" Rory recognized the effect her words inflicted visible on her mother's face the moment they flew out of her mouth.

"Oh, that's rich," Lorelai's lips turned into a thin line. "No one - especially not me - forced your father to make the choices he made."

"Logan is not dad. He wants this." Rory found herself defending him against her personal hesitations. Hell, Logan was far more invested in this than her.

"Wanting this means you? Or the kid?" Lorelai looked hard at her, usually, sensible daughter. Her expression is doubtful.

Rory couldn't hide the fleeting doubt on her face when her mother voiced it at loud. She gathered her best-determined voice, "This isn't an arrangement I didn't think through. We have the custody arrangement all set up. I know what I'm getting myself into. You just hate that's it's Logan."

"This has nothing do with Logan!" Lorelai gawked at Rory's doubtful glare, " Logan is a lovely young man. He's nice and polite. And attractive. He's got that hair, the hair that could sell shampoo to a bald man. Logan is a charming young man. You want to date Logan? Date Logan! Dating is completely different."

"I know that tone."

"What tone?"

"The sound of suppressed judgment."

"No judgment."

"A lot of judgment."

"Are you listening to yourself? A custody agreement. So you have a contract- that's makes everything alright? It doesn't work like that, Rory. This is so so wrong."

"Yes. It does. It protects both of us."

"No, it protects him! People like Logan, people like your grandparents - they live in a world of contracts – and you know what contracts are used for in that world? I'll tell you what for – to hide dirty little secrets." Lorelai's judgment oozed out of her mouth.

"I'm not his dirty little secret." The insult burnt.

"Open your eyes, Rory! That is exactly what you are!"

"That's not what I am! Logan is my baby partner, alright?! We're doing the IVF thing." Rory says in a clipped voice.

"The IVF thing? Like in a lab? What the hell, Rory?" Lorelai's eye bulged out of their sockets.

"Mom.." Rory tried to remain clam.

"This is unbelievable! Rory, I feel I failed my motherly duties at explaining how babies come into this world. I realize it's probably a little too late to do this now. But listen carefully, I'm going to give it my best anyway. Here it goes:" Lorelai took a deep breath.

"You don't need to explain the birds and the bees to me.."

In a beat, Lorelai broke into a Cole Porter song: "_Birds do it, bees do it, even educated flees do it, let's do it, let's fall in love…In Spain, the best upper sets do it, Lithuanians and Letts do it, Let's do it, let's fall in love…_"

Rory grabbed a pillow off the sofa aiming at her mother. She's not going to sit through this musical number. Suddenly Logan's offer to tag along seemed like a good idea. This would have never happened if Logan's was here.

"You hit me with a pillow!" Lorelai exclaimed.

"Stop! Just stop! This is not a joke!"

"OF COURSE IT'S NOT A JOKE! THIS IS ABSURD!"

"THIS IS NOT ABSURD! THIS IS RATIONAL!"

"Rational? Rational? Ever since you've met this boy, you've been nothing BUT rational! What is the point of turning this into a complicated, expensive medical procedure? Just get into a room, close the door, and…" Lorelai gestured her hands dirtily. "Repeat if necessary until something happens. In your case, it only took ten minutes. You don't even have to get a room! We did it on the balcony!"

Rory's nostrils flared.

"My kid will have a father. A father who's going is there. And it's going to be Logan. You might no be happy about it, but you don't get to have an opinion about this."

"And you think that's Logan's gonna be there? Huh?" Her mother challenged, "Don't be naïve, Rory. Let me tell you something about guys like Logan. Logan is an immature, emotionally messed up, rich boy, who is hiding from the real world in Seattle. This man's only ambition is to avoid facing reality and stepping up for his family obligations and the responsibility that comes with it. Very promising."

"And hiding out in Stars Hollow isn't?" Rory's tongue clicked. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't even know him! You think you do – but you don't!"

"Neither do you! Knowing a guy in the biblical sense does not mean you know him!" Lorelai was beyond mad, "I chose to leave that world. And I stand by that decision every day."

"No, you've never left! You just like to pretend that you did! You dive in and out when it suits you. When you need money you're in. Otherwise you're out. And now you're marrying dad, remember? So what did you exactly leave behind? Nothing! You and Logan, you are exactly alike- the only difference is that Logan is not a hypocrite about it." Rory's word came out like bullets from a machine gun.

"Hey!" Lorelai called "Low blow, daughter!"

"You know what, mom?" Rory stood up, strapping the camera back over her neck. "This was me making a nice gesture to include you in my life. Consider yourself un-included!"

"What's going on?" Both women named Lorelai turned their heads and blazing blue eyes to look at the brown-eyed man responsible for their life story.

"Chris.." Lorelai starts.

Rory decides it high time to make her exit. Her shopping bags waits by the door.

"Oh, you're going to have to walk faster than that. You're going to have to turn into friggin' Flo Jo to get away from me." Lorelai followed her daughter out.

"Well, you need to turn into fucking Usain Bolt to catch me!"

"Yeah? where you are going? To Logan? God, Rory, why do you keep running to that guy? The decent picking of Seattle's men is that slim?"

Rory turned around angrily; the juggled shopping bags make a dramatic noise.

"Because of you! _You_ pointed him out of me at Finn's wedding. _You_ got together with dad without telling me. _You_ didn't call on my birthday. _You_ decide to get married and expect me to be happy for you! But _you_ can never be happy for me! _You_ can always only pass judgment! It's _you_ that keeps making me run to him! And I love him!"

Both Lorelai's stare at one another, shaking with anger and stunned.

"Rory.."

"I hate you!" Rory threw the final word and turned around.

**~w~**

* * *

"I hate you!" Finn announced as the door of the Hartford house flew wide open to reveal the tall Australian.

"What did I do now?" Logan asked cautiously. He didn't expect this kind of greeting.

"Don't ring the doorbell, Logan, it wakes the baby. Didn't Colin tell you that?"

"I thought we only listen to Colin if the law enforcement is on our tail?"

"Oh, I'm just messing with you!" Finn pulled him into a bone-crushing hug, ushering him in. "Come along; I want you to meet someone special. It's about bloody time; the cigars were about to dry out."

"Cubans?"

"What else? Only the best for my girl." Finn rested his hand on Logan's shoulder, just as they are about the enter the Kitchen. "Play nice."

"I'm always nice. Is there any cake?" Logan didn't miss a beat and push past Finn.

He couldn't walk into a more hostile setting if he tried. Kim held the piping bag full of frosting over a dozen cupcakes. "Took you long enough."

"Kim."

"Logan."

"Well, awesome! Everyone is re-acquainted. Great. NOW, Let's move on to the grand introductions." Finn called happily, lifting the baby out of the stroller.

"Finn, don't wake her." The Australian's wife warned the chippy dad.

"I'm going to wake her. She has to meet Logan. Now that he got off his mighty horse. He only stops by once in a blue moon."

"I hope it kicked him on his way down."

Logan ignored the dig.

"There she is…. My Sabrina." Finn and pushed the baby into Logan's unprepared arms. It took a minute to shuffle the infant into a more comfortable position.

"Like the witch?" Logan quipped.

"Don't be daft, as the cake!" The Australian beamed at his wife, who sulked eyeing the blonde suspiciously. "You're a natural, mate. She likes you."

"Girls always like me. Mothers not so much." Logan smirked, cradling the baby carefully.

"Haha. True. I'm going to find my cigar cutter." Finn announced, bouncing out of the kitchen, leaving Logan alone with the pastry chef much to his dismay. If Finn hadn't left him with the child, she might have stabbed him with a whisk.

**~w~**

* * *

"And then, she broke into a song!" Rory throws her hands up in the air, falling on her back on the bed next to him. "I like the yacht. Your socks have carrots on them."

Rory looked in the wrong head space when she stepped off the bus at Hartford. And it looked like she cried too. Logan had many questions, starting with why the hell was she riding the bus? Yet, talking seemed like the last thing she wanted to do. So, he ushered them back into his hiding place on the yacht. Logan can't stand staying another minute at the Huntzberger's mansion.

Once the joint kicked in, it came pouring out of her.

"They do. A song? What song?" Logan propped up on his elbows, trying to keep a straight face.

"I don't want to tell you." She pouts in frustration.

His smirk widens, "Why not?"

"You'll enjoy it too much," Rory mumbled, not meeting his eye.

"Well, now you have to tell me." Logan pulled her on top of him, his fingers running through her silky hair, "So I take it didn't go too well?"

"The chances of this going well were slimmer than zero. It went horribly wrong." Rory muttered into his chest. She sniffed him next. "Why do you smell like cigars?"

"I saw Finn's baby today. Sabrina." Logan placed a kiss on the top of her head, one hand resting at the small of her back the other grazing her side.

"Like the witch?" Rory giggled.

"Like the cake."

"They had one of the best wedding cakes I ever ate. Ah, that amazing whipped cream." Rory sighed contently. Hands were groping aimlessly.

"I always forget you were there."

"It's kinda insulting since you tried to bed me."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, totally did." She gives him a crooked smile. He can't help but smile back.

Her closeness is exciting. The fact she doesn't reject his touch just fuels him more, but Logan is holding back. And it's not lost on him; both their guards are down under the influence, so is his self-control.

"I would have braved Kim's evil eye and raided the fridge again if I had known I'd see you today. Your appreciation for Kim's whipped cream is well established. Especially with grapefruit."

"What? who told you that?" Rory's head snapped up to look at him.

"Your grandfather." The words that leave his mouth and the actions of his hands are strangers. His hands should not be groping her when discussing her grandfather. Their bodies started to melt into each other.

"I can't believe he said that to you." Rory moaned embarrassed, grazing her face on his neck.

His eye nearly rolled back with pleasure. "It was a very embarrassing moment. I don't quite know what it means, but I think I'm cool with that."

"Logan?"

"Mmmm?" Logan stares at her.

"Are my boobs bigger?"

"What?" He wasn't expecting that. If this is not an invitation, he doesn't know what is.

"My mom said my boobs look bigger than they used to."

"I'm not one to complain." His hand gently cups one, and his smirk widens, Rory jabbed his ribs; this only sends them grinding closer. "Aw, what did you do that for?"

"You're a jerk."

"So, what else did she say?" his fingers toy with her hair.

"I don't want to talk about it." Rory effectively shut down the conversation with a demanding kiss.

**Xx**

"Urrgh. My head swimming. I have to go to Friday night dinner." The weird sensation makes Rory whine into his shoulder. "I have to see my mom."

"One, two, three, cha cha cha." Logan pushes her a little.

"Nothing left to do but get up and face the music." Rory threw the covers away, reaching into her abandoned shopping bags. She turned, holding out two possible dresses at him. "Which goes better with an angry mother?"

**~W~**

* * *

"The turkey is stuffed with grapefruits. I told Anise we have to have something with grapefruit for Rory. I hope you'd be pleased. Anise found the recipe on YouTube."

Rory looked at her grandfather under lowered lashes. Richard Gilmore bites on his fork to stop his laughter. This joke has dragged on incredibly too long now. She can't believe he told Logan about the grapefruit.

"It's delicious, Emily." Christopher appeased the Gilmore matriarch as usual. Generally, at this point, her mother would usually jump in with some smart ass remark. But Lorelai just sat there with a stony face, cutting her food into tiny pieces.

Rory didn't know what was more unnerving. Her mother, the fact that her grandmother knew what YouTube was, or that she stuffed a turkey with grapefruits. What unlikely combination.

The turkey stuffed with grapefruit. No doubt about it.

Rory wished Logan and her never had the turkey conversation in the first place. They shouldn't have practiced the missionary version of turkey stuffed with grapefruit this afternoon, either. The visuals burned in the front of her mind.

Rory pushed her plate away. She felt queasy just looking at the turkey.

"What's wrong, Rory? Don't you like it?"

"I've gone off grapefruits?" She's never touching Logan again. She should have taken the anti-nausea medication he offered.

"You have?" Her grandfather looked surprised by the mixed message.

"Well, why didn't you say so? Why am I'm always the last one to know anything in this family?" Emily put her fork down, "I'll ask Anise to make something else for you."

"It's fine. Grandma. Really. No need. There's enough food." Rory reached for her water, hoping her grandmother would move on for another subject.

Emily sat back down in her seat, "Did you have an exciting afternoon? I stopped by the pool house, but you weren't in. I didn't know you had any plans."

"No plans. Mom and I went shopping, and afterward, I was just fooling around at the harbor." Rory tried to keep her voice light and casual. She regretted her choice of words the moment they left her mouth. "With the camera."

Lorelai snorted and mumbled something.

"The harbor is wonderful this time of year." Richard pointed out with his knife.

"The harbor? What business could you possibly have at the harbor?" Emily wondered, "Did you say something, Lorelai?"

"I said maybe we should call Logan Huntzberger and ask." Lorelai's words exploded in the dining room.

Mother and daughter stared at each other—one with hard eyes, one brimming with tears.

"Don't be absurd, Lorelai. Why would we call…" Emily Gilmore waved her daughter off out of habit, but as her eye-rolling landed on Rory's face, the mood changed. "Good Lord. Logan Huntzberger?"

"Wonderful news!" Richard Gilmore beamed at his granddaughter from his place at the end of the table.

Emily begs to differ, "How is that wonderful news?! Mali Rosen says he has a substance problem and…"

Rory moved uneasy in her chair and shared a distressed look with the two males sat at the table.

"If Mali Rosen spent half the time she spends bad-mouthing the Huntzberger boy doing actual charity work, there will be world peace by now." Richard Gilmore intervened, "Everyone has a past."

"Lorelai, how could you let that happen?" Emily slammed her cutlery on the table.

"Me? Does it look like I approve this ridiculously toxic interaction?"

"G, why don't you go upstairs?" Chris suggested to her half-sister.

"But, this is interesting."

"Now. G." Rory's half-sister pushed her chair back in a huff. Rory wished they'd switch.

"If you hadn't insisted on demonstrating your disrespect to every society acceptable code of conduct… preventing Rory from a good upbringing…"

"Rory had a good upbringing! It just wasn't your kind of approved upbringing. But I did a good job! I did a brilliant job. On my own. Every step of the way."

"We have done nothing but sit on the sidelines, accepting your liberal ways of upbringing in silence. Your father and I have done nothing but provide and support Rory ever since you let us back into her life. But as it turns out, your influence is just too strong; it's inevitable Rory would be inspired by your ways. You don't have the best track record when it comes to men, Lorelai… But you were supposed to lead by example!" Emily fumed. "No offense, Christopher."

"None taken." Christopher Hayden mumbled.

"And you –" The Gilmore with the pearls turned to her granddaughter, "You were supposed to BE better. You were supposed to DO better. And now you're running around with that scandalous trump of a man. Richard back me up here."

The Gilmore man stayed silent, his eyes remaining steady on his grand-daughter, holding an inner smile.

"Hey! She was fine! She was fine until she met this guy!" Lorelai turned her drums of war towards her father, "and you – you encouraged it!"

"Richard, have you known about this?"

"Of course he knows about this. Dad has been playing cupid since Christmas!"

"Lor.." Christopher laid a hand on her arm.

"Richard? Is that true?" Emily didn't know where to look first, "You can not date a man like him, Rory. That man is bad news. His reputation proceeds him."

"Logan is not a.." Rory started only to be cut off by Lorelai.

"Oh, don't worry, Mom. She's not dating him." Lorelai forcefully cut her food into even tinier pieces, keeping a sarcastic smile, "She's just having his child. And soon we will be one big a happy family. Us and the Huntzbergers."

"Dear Lord. You're pregnant?!" Emily slammed her cutlery on the table. "Lorelai, how could you let that happen?"

"Me? Are you blaming me? I've been against this whole thing since day one!" Lorelai switched from stone to fire, "Do you think I encouraged my beautiful, bright, over-achieving, Yale-educated daughter to be her boss's dirty little secret? Seriously, Mom, after all this time, do you think so lowly of me?"

"No one is pregnant yet!"

"Would you two just stop it?" Richard Gilmore's voice boomed. "Rory is a grown-up, and a woman with a mind of her own, she can make her own decisions. Logan Huntzberger is a well-educated man from a good family, who is doing well in business. They make an excellent couple."

"They are not a couple! They have a contract! How very Hartford elite. A contract is not a relationship!" Lorelai's eyes focused on her daughter, "It is NOT."

"The contract is very fair."

Rory shut her eyes at her father's intervention. It's going south on all fronts.

"You knew about this?" Lorelai's head sharply snapped to her daughter's father.

"No, I didn't know about this. Rory asked me to review a contract for a friend. I skimmed it, but I don't know much about family law, so I passed it along."

"And you hide it from me?"

"Mom, don't blame him.. he was just…"

"My daughter asked for my help. She's not underage, and she's mentally fit to make clear and lucid decisions. I didn't think I had to discuss our every interaction with you." Chris rested his napkin next to his plate.

"My daughter." Lorelai corrected.

"Our daughter." Chris echoed.

"This isn't about you! Stop making it about you," Rory snapped, making her mother break the tense eye contact with her dad.

Emily agreed.

"Or you," Rory answered her grandmother. "This is my life. This is what I decided, and none of you have a say. So you have nothing nice to say – just say nothing at all. And no one is pregnant – yet."

"We will not sit here and pretend your relationship with Logan Huntzberger is acceptable." Lorelai didn't hold back.

"Than I guess we're not going to sit here!" Rory stood up.

"Sit down, Rory." Richard Gilmore said with authority. "That is quite enough, Lorelai. Emily - tell Anise to set an extra plate at breakfast; I assume we might be expecting a guest. Rory - please extend our invitation for breakfast and Christmas. He is more than welcome – if he wishes." Richard Gilmore nodded his head firmly. "End of discussion."

"Oh Lord, in the pool house." Emily fanned herself with distress.

"I think go skiing this year," Lorelai said tightly.

"You don't ski." Rory should have never retorted back.

"Ski or not. If he steps one foot in this house - Christmas is canceled!" Lorelai announced, throwing her napkin on the table, dramatically pushing her chair back.

"You can not cancel Christmas, Lorelai!" Emily jumped up after her.

"Dealing with this family is stressful." Chris rubbed his neck, looking between Richard and Rory, "I better go make sure this doesn't get too out of hand. And make sure Gigi eats."

**Xx**

A man and his granddaughter sit alone around a festive laden table.

"You didn't have to do that," Rory said softly to her knight in shining armor. "Thanks."

"I'm glad to see you worked your difference out. I was worried after Fez. Sometimes you are wrong even when you think you're right." Richard Gilmore sounds apologetic.

"Fez was necessary."

"Your mother was never keen on fruits. She especially discriminates the high-end produce too."

"Grandma doesn't approve grapefruits in diet."

"Well they are not the one eating it, I believe they have very little say in the matter." The insurance man logically summarizes. "Pass me the grapefruit."

**~w~**

* * *

Logan's hands feel different post-coitus. Tender. And he hums while his fingers absentmindedly play with her hair. Rory picks up on the habit; he does that a lot. He did it earlier today too. A comforting gesture, she isn't sure whom it serves.

"Do the other girls touch you like I do?" Her fingers trace his collar bones. The pool house windows play shadows on his skin.

"What other girls? There are no other girls." His answer is quite surprising, "I'm not the one seeing other people."

Rory wets her lips and whispers, "I don't want to be your dirty little secret."

"What? Why would you even think that you're my dirty little secret?"

Because of her mother, because he wants to keep it separate. "You said invisible strings."

"Just because I'm not advertising this, doesn't mean I'm hiding it. My friends know, my family knows. As far as I'm concerned, no one else needs to know. I don't want anyone in my business. When I said invisible stings - I meant that."

Rory says nothing. Her eyelashes blink on the bare skin of his chest. Her family knows, and it doesn't make any difference; it doesn't make her feel lighter. This man's presence in her life flares up so much resentment, yet she can't resist him.

"I got you something." He breaks contact and goes to search in his pants' pockets.

"A gift?" Rory sits up; her eyes twinkled in the dark.

"Just something." He acts coy, returning to sit crossed legs on the bed. "Amelia made it. She's setting up a string bracelet empire. She let me pick the colors." He ties the blue, white, and gold string bracelet on her left wrist.

"You got me a friendship bracelet." She teases him. "I thought you are more an over the top expensive bling-bling kind of guy."

"Trust me; I paid my best dollar on it. She's a ruthless businesswoman." She stands corrected as he settles back down on the pillows restlessly.

"You got me a friendship bracelet." Rory fingers the item.

"I didn't get you a friendship bracelet. We were never friends." Logan flung an arm over his eyes, but a smile betrayers him. Rory knows he's going to spend the night. He always stays when not in Seattle. He'll leave before breakfast, that's too much too soon.

"You got me a string bracelet." She can't stop the uncontrollable grin taking over her face. The strings are not invisible anymore.

A string bracelet. She loves the way this man's mind works.


	30. Chapter 30

_AN: Hello all you concerned readers. As I privately responded to some, my main concern is being true to the plot and doing justice to this story and it's characters. This, and real life, might effect the timing of updates. I simply I ask you to bear with me and just leave another review :) __Writing takes time. Editing takes longer...reference list will be posted on the review section. I hope you'd like this next part. Not super happy with it. But it gets us where we need to go._

_I want to thank to my frequent reviewers. Some of you disappeared in the last few updates, so I hope all is well at your end. I send you best wishes. Thank you for taking the time to leave a review and share your reading journey with me. I truly appreciate how engaged some of your are with this story.  
Big shout out to MidLifeWriter and Kazza for off the record discussions. Your thoughts and inputs were gold. _

* * *

**December 2013**

_**Seattle**_

"Stop with the pictures. You only need one. One." Logan rinsed the razor under the running water. Rory patiently waited for him to lift his head again for another stroke of the knife.

Logan has the sense to avoid camera angles. Either he'd move too fast, or he'd make sure to block the light or a clear view of his features. Yet, the displayed concentration on his face when he carefully runs the blade on his face was memorizing.

"You have a fantastic shaving technic. I'm gonna record the whole process and make a series of it." Rory kept the Sony aimed at him. The medium camera had a wide enough angle to capture a wide shot, the reflection of his foam-covered face, and her sitting on the marble by the sink. "Distinguished cheekbones too."

Logan frowned.

"You're shaving that ridiculous beard. Such a memorable event that has to be documented properly. We'd finally be able to see your dimples." Rory replied, "Plus, it's in the contract."

"So much for being indifferent." Logan shook the water off the blade, sliding it down on his cheek from his left ear.

"It itches." Rory's busily adjusted the brightness on the digital camera. She didn't care for the pictures, too; she was just testing the camera's abilities. And Logan was the best subject.

"Go answer your phone and leave me to shave in peace." Logan tried to hide a small smile to keep his bothered attitude.

"It's my mom. She can leave a message. I'm busy." Rory deflected his attempt to make her leave the bathroom. He'd have to try harder. She switched the Camera into sport mode, firing a series of shots at him. She wasn't keen on speaking to her mother anyway.

"Shouldn't you be making final plans for Christmas?" The foam under his chin disappeared with a swift move, "When do you fly out?"

Rory looked at him through the lens, "I'm not. Mom canceled Christmas."

**~w~**

* * *

"Rory," the brunette lets out a little whimper as he broke off contact. Her lips, all swollen, grazed his again. Shit. Logan has let this impromptu pancake-making make-out session get a little carried away. He pulled away, just barely. "Rory, I can't have sex with you in the kitchen."

"Because this is Seattle?" Her fingers played at the naped of his neck, trying to coax him closer again. "This is not Seattle; this winter wonderland. I went all out with the instant mashed potatoes flakes to pull this off." Her mouth crushed on his again.

Because that is something he would do with Chelsea. Logan tries to push it to the back of his mind.

"Because it's unhygienic." He mumbles against her lips.

"We can clean up in the shower after." She sexily captures his lips again. Her hands tag on his jeans. "Not Seattle. Not my boss. No one's toes. Stop changing the rules."

He couldn't quite argue with the trumping argument. He wouldn't be so hesitant to fall into bed with her if they were out East. But he is still her boss despite the mutually agreed upon holiday loophole.

"No. Slow down a minute." Logan stills her hands.

His eyes fall to the floor, a ridiculous amount of fake snow substitute covers it. Rory has transformed the main room in his apartment into a winter set. This was not what he imagined when he made the impulsive and foolish decision to stay put in Seattle for the holiday season.

_"It's the like Christmas at the East Coast!" she beamed at his stunned face. His gym bag dropped at the entrance at the sight of the white power. "Go take a shower. Let's hang the lights and make marshmallow pancakes!"_

The marshmallow pancakes dare is entirely to blame for the state that he is in now. It was disgusting, and the sticky remains of egg whites and sugar would be a nightmare to clean off the pan.

But it's the least of his problems. Rory's face is nuzzling his neck, "I don't have any on me."

"You have too many clothes on, that's what you have." She tags on his pants again, but he denies her access. Rory blinks at him. "What do you mean you don't have any?"

"I'm out. Condoms weren't high on my shopping list." Logan looks at her from the corner of his eye. He winces as Rory looks at him baffled.

"What's the deal with the condoms? You do realize we are, in general, trying to procreate, right? Condoms kinda get in the way of that." She found Logan's stubborn insistence to add the latex barrier utterly unexplained. Not that he was easily persuaded to engage in sexual activity within Seattle's borders to being with.

Logan stepped out of her reach, putting a much-needed distance between them. So many reasons.

First, to separate leisure and baby.

Second, Rory accusing him of manipulating her into sleeping with him to capitalize on the missed cycle in September - didn't help. Logan wasn't keen on the tables turning on him again.

Third, every time they have gone, unintentionally, old-school ended up in nothing or a disappointment.

The fourth one, he chose to voice, "Contractions that accompany the female orgasm could prevent the embryo from implanting."

"What the hell..?" Rory looked utterly freaked out by his response, "Logan? Are you deliberately looking for reasons not to have sex with me?"

"No." Yes. Kind of. Logan combs his hand through his hair, conflicted, "The timing is… The book said that it's not recommended at this point in the cycle. Sex could… Um… maybe we shouldn't at all."

The flakes shuffled around his feet. Rory was still sitting frozen on top of his kitchen counter.

"Seriously?! Stop reading that creepy book." Rory muttered, scowling at the new information, "Explain."

Logan rubbed his neck; he really didn't feel comfortable discussing how her contractions work, "Also, the probability of multiple embryos increases if natural intercourse occurs at certain times during the IVF cycle, which raises risks for mother and baby. Dr. Pence validated the risk."

"You discussed the prospect of you giving me an orgasm with my doctor?" Rory gawped at him.

"He is a fertility doctor; he kinda knows all about that stuff… and I didn't discuss it with him. I sent him an e-mail." Logan changed the subject, "Let's just watch a movie or something."

"Fine." Rory jumped off the counter; he had managed to stray her mind as far away from sex as possible. "Let's watch The Lion King!"

"No. Anything but that." Logan was quick to shut the idea down.

"Why not? It's a great movie. A modern version of Hamlet. It's my turn to chose; you can't deny both sex and my choice of movie." Rory pouted at him; her intent to guilt him went out the window when an envelope on the other side of the counter caught her eye. "What is that?"

"Pictures." Logan started putting the pancakes ingredient away. "Kim asked if I had any. I said I'd look."

Rory glanced at him. It's another validation he had other plans for the holidays than spending it in Seattle. With her. In a penthouse covered in fake snow. It makes her feel funny.

"Pictures?!" Rory waved the envelop excitedly, "Can I?"

"Don't hold me responsible for what's in there. Finn has naked phases."

Rory didn't waste any time. She jumped on the sofa while flips through them, smiling. The pictures seemed to document a selection of his wild college days, and beyond, She recognizes some of the Yale settings. "These are from when you were at Yale? Colin and Finn are such an act. Did you take these? These are great!"

"Some. They sure are." The mention of Finn and Colin make Logan lose his standoffish attitude, and he ends up next to her.

"Here," He leans closer, "We attended the famous Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival, a time-honored tradition where brave men, such as myself, climb to the top of a hill with a large wheel of cheese, then proceed to push it and run after it as it rolls all the way down."

"Shut up. Why would you commit that to film?" Rory giggled.

He only smirks, pointing at the figures, "That's me, that's Colin, that's Finn, and that is the cheese."

"A rare documentation of Logan Huntzberger. So if you beat your cheese to the bottom of the hill, are you disqualified, or do you win?"

"There are no winners or losers in the Gloucestershire Cheese-Rolling festival."

Rory matches his grin. She wants to kiss him again. "That is so stupid."

"It's fun." It is. Rory doesn't care that they won't be watching The Lion King or having sex anymore. She loved discovering the hidden parts of Logan Huntzberger.

Rory shuffles the photos some more, reaching a picture of Finn carrying a blonde girl in a piggyback, "Who's that? Is that an old girlfriend of Finn's?"

"That's Chelsea," Logan finally says uncomfortably. It is hard not to notice he once again spaced the distance.

"She's pretty," Rory tries to sound indifferent, quickly moving on with the stack. Deep down, she's bursting with curiosity. It's the first time she can put a face to the ghost.

"Yes," with one syllable answer Logan is up to his feet. "Let's watch Home Alone. I'll get the popcorn."

Rory quickly goes back to the picture once he's sufficiently away. She stares at the face of competition. It's the only picture she is in. It slowly dawns on her – Chelsea took the photos.

* * *

**June 2010**

**_London_**

Logan stared at London's skyline. The unfinished Shard's concrete structure stuck out in the panoramic view stretching out of his office window like a middle finger in the face of heritage. Logan couldn't quite explain his fascination with the building.

Maybe it was the hype around the controversial design. 'A shard of glass in the heart of historic London' - That's what the critic in the papers said. Or the challenge it posed for BASE jumpers and urban climbers circles he now spent his time with. The prospect of jumping off that building was thrilling. So was the risk—the risk of getting caught. The adrenaline. Deep down, Logan was itching to defy gravity. He hasn't done anything this reckless since college.

Logan was restless.

Perhaps, it was because the construction has started the very day his divorce finalized. The symbolism and irony were not lost on Logan - A shard of glass stuck in the heart.

"So unimpressed, but so in awe!"

Logan spun around quickly. He was unaware of the door opening until the Australian accent rang out.

"Such a saint, but such a whore." Colin appeared behind the Australian next, alluding to Logan's double-edged sword of reputation. His afternoon delights with Bobbi from marketing was the worst kept secret in the London office. Logan didn't care.

"So self-aware, so full of shit. How is that possible that you're out of Wild Turkey?" Finn was already indulging himself with the booze he kept in his office.

Logan forced his eyes to tear off the door. He half expected a third figure to skip into the office out of habit. She never materialized. His heart stung angry at his foolishness.

"So indecisive, so adamant!" Colin shook his head as he could read through him. The lawyer found his way behind the desk opening the top desk drawer.

"I contemplate thinking about thinking; it's overrated; just get another drink in." The blonde voiced for the first time.

"Hear hear!" Finn concurred, drinking straight from the bottle. "What are you looking for, Colin?"

"Knives, razor blades, scissors, shards of glass, sharp pencils." The preppy man rattled, but all he finds is tissues, a laser pointer, paper clips, pens, mint gum, socks, and two sealed condoms. Colin looks at Logan, "So Rock'n'roll, so corporate suit. Hand sanitizer?"

"Second drawer." Logan crossed his arms defensively, "I'm not scared of dying. I just don't want to. To what do I owe this unsolicited visit? Shouldn't you be on your summer honeymoon?"

"Ah, Logan, you know how I feel about the sun."

"Shouldn't you be groveling back to Janie?" Logan directed the question to the other American.

"Janie got a gun." Finn snickered. "Turns out Janie is not just a model - She's a gun model. Colin had a dream that he wakes up with her standing over him, pointing a nine-millimetre gun to his temple and demanding a ring."

Colin sent an annoyed look at the Australian who ratted him out. "It wasn't a dream.

"Where do you find those girls?" Logan wondered. Colin Shrugged.

"He's gonna be hearing about that one for a long time!" Finn snickered again. Logan agreed.

"Your wedding day is coming up. We are here to watch you as you come undone." You can always trust Colin to state it as bluntly as it is. "Bros before hoes."

**~w~**

"The man is indestructible!" Finn announced.

"Dive headfirst off the cliff, instantly spins out of control." Colin demonstrated with his hands.

"Gets totally disoriented, barely gets the parachute out to open." Finn spices the story with a dramatic flair. "Lands right in the water!"

"Then comes the wave!" Colin made a wave sign with his hands.

"Where's Mitchum?" Ben stopped the duo from reenacting the whole incident. He wasn't anxious to hear the rest of the story of how all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Logan together again.

"Oh, the dark lord? We left word but haven't heard anything back. We don't expect to. He never comes." Finn answered, "But we've come up with a plan to get around the whole family only get information thing…"

"You've called Chelsea?" Ben asked impatiently.

"Chelsea would be absolutely no help at all. She's in rehab, and the divorce finalized in March last year. We're adopting him!" Colin announced. Finn nodded in agreement.

"What?"

"Logan will make a fine son." Finn reasoned at Ben's stunned face.

"I know you can always trust _my_ son to take things literally, but when I told him he needed a push, I was talking about was a metaphorical one not off a cliff!" Mitchum Huntzberger's voice boomed behind Ben's back, making him jump. "Ben, glad you could make it."

Ben shrugged. It's not like the newspaper king left him much choice. Sending the family jet to collect him from Seattle directly to London, was nothing akin to asking.

"I'm only going to ask this once, you imbecile boys. Whose idea was it?" Colin and Finn exchanged looks. Both suddenly looked scolded twelve years old boys.

"Logan's. The parachute was meant to open."

"It's called the Life and Death Brigade. It was an accident." Finn corrected.

"I know what's it called. You're supposed to avoid the death part! And you were supposed to stop him from throwing himself off a cliff!" Mitchum barked. "Three days ago, when I saw my son he was in fully functioning form, now you tell me what on earth have made him pull this idiotic stunt."

"It's was June 21st," Colin answered, looking down at his shoes uncomfortably. Ben sighed at the information. Finn stuck his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels.

"What is so damn special about June 21st!? Look at me when you speak McCrae." Mitchum ordered.

Finn, Colin, and Ben exchanged conflicted glances. Neither man wanted to be the one disclosing that information.

"It's his wedding date." Ben's quiet words made Mitchum curse.

"That girl was always nothing but trouble. Where's the doctor?"

**Xx**

"He's banged up pretty bad, but most bruises are superficial apart to a broken ankle. He's one lucky guy to have landed in the water the way he did. He swallowed a lot of water, and we are monitoring his lungs to see he doesn't develop pneumonia or an infection. He cracked two ribs, and he's going to be in pain. He has a mild concussion but no further damage. We're just keeping him for observation... I've seen worse. He's going to make a full recovery." The doctor concluded.

"Robocop made a full recovery look where that led him." Finn quipped only to be hashed by Colin. Ben smiled despite himself. Such a typical Logan joke.

Mitchum shook his head. His son sure knew how to pick them.

"We had to give him some strong painkillers due to the operation on his leg. It knocked him out for the meantime; he's going to be in some pain for a while." The doctor paused, "I do have a few questions; we ran some blood tests, is Logan diagnosed with ADHD?"

Mitchum seemed surprised the doctor aimed the question at him, "Not that I know of."

"Potential side effects of the stimulant drug like Ritalin on those without ADHD showed changes in brain chemistry associated with risk-taking behavior, sleep disruption, and other undesirable effects." The doctor explained.

"That's not out of the ordinary behavior for Logan." Colin puffed. Ben agreed silently.

"Yeah, Logan never sleeps anyways." Finn offered his two cents.

"What the kind doctor is nicely asking - is my son abusing prescription drugs?" Mitchum cross-examines the witnesses. The three younger men went quiet again. "Today, if you may."

"Just weed. Only on weekends." Finn coats it. "And E's. Rarely."

"What about Cocaine?" Mitchum directly asked.

"Logan was never into that. That was Chelsea's thing." Colin confessed.

"Anything else?"

"He has a sleeping pills prescription, but he never touches them." Ben Attwood spoke for the first time since the doctor arrived. "I don't know anything about the Ritalin."

**Xx**

"It is time. It is time that he to stop jumping out of planes in gorilla masks, and crashing boats, and getting plastered every night, and ending up in the hospital. He was finally on a path. That girl is out of the picture, and he's away from those dopes Colin and Finn and the stupid Life and Death Brigade…"

The newspaper king paced the floor in front of his son's hospital room. A thin, metal, telescoping pointer suddenly materialized out of his dress-shirt pocket. Ben's eyes followed the tip memorized as it swung back and forth in the rhythm of his strides. He sometimes wondered if Logan realized how alike he and the man he called his father really was.

Colin and Finn wisely disappeared after Mitchum mercilessly bashed them. Logan's absence from the scene in the hospital's hallway only demonstrated how integral part of the trio he was. They took it in silence. Logan would have talked back.

"I did everything he asked. Bought him out, gave him a free hand in London, turned a blind eye of his nightly activities, of his dubious choice of bedmates… What am I going to do with him? The boy thinks he's Peter Pan. Flying off buildings in London and cliffs in Scotland!"

Ben couldn't quite decide what Mitchum Huntzberger was more, pissed, or panicked.

"Do I need to check him into rehab? I nearly lost him." The media mogul looked helplessly at the man his son's confines in. A man who used to once work for him.

Ben made a mental note to include this moment in his memoir if he'd ever write one. The cracks in Mitchum Huntzberger's bust-your-balls attitude. Epiphany dawned. Mitchum Huntzberger was scared of his son's vulnerability, which is why he has yet to step a foot inside his hospital room.

"I haven't been a father long. And the most pain my daughter ever endured is the colic, so it's not much by comparison…" Ben finally said, looking into his stale coffee cup, "But, sometimes all you can do is love them."

"Don't be ridiculous, Benjamin. Of course, I love him." The man who wears a yellow tie spluttered, "He's my son. He knows that."

"No, he doesn't." Ben snorted, "Logan doesn't need a lecture; he doesn't need a push, he doesn't need you to fix it for him. Just love your son."

Mitchum collapsed on the plastic chair next to his son's business partner, "I don't know how to get through to him. He keeps pushing me away."

"If you can't find it within you, swallow your pride, call Aaron Rosen and ask how."

**~w~**

* * *

Logan was spending his days in a chemically induced sleep, rummaging the fridge at night and surfing the movie channels. A plate with vegetables arranged in a smiley face stared back of him from the second shelf in the fridge: broccoli hair, carrot's mouth. A mashed potato face. Creepy.

Did his father think he was a child? He's eating cereal.

Logan took the milk out and slammed the door. His left ankle busted in pain as he hopped on one leg towards the cabinet that stored the coco-puffs. His other leg wasn't hurt but stiff from the recovering bruises.

Empty. Mitchum Huntzberger moved the cereal.

Mitchum was also strictly documenting what painkillers he took. How many sleeping pills. Before Logan took a shower, Mitchum would apply the plastic wrap on his ankle too tight. It soon became apparent his dad was not in a hurry to go anywhere. Not back to America. Not even the London office. The two-bedroom apartment was too small for both of them. Logan felt crowded. It seemed like the man was always either one step ahead of him, or one step behind him.

Logan intentionally switched his hours to avoid his father's presence, and it worked until the physiotherapist told Mitchum Logan should put more effort into it.

_"I dare you to move. I dare you to pick yourself up off the floor."_

_"I can't." Logan moaned. The exercise routine that required lying on the floor and flex was tolerable. Those he could do. The real torture began when he practiced stepping._

_"Stop lying to me, Logan. You can do anything. You just have to believe in yourself. Did we learn nothing from "Mad Hot Ballroom?"_

_Logan narrowed his eyes at his father. He was never watching documentary movies with him ever again._

_"If I'd stop lying, I'd just disappoint you." he spat._

_"Somehow, you reach the cereal cabinet just fine."_

**Xx**

"Why are we here?" Logan sat, staring straight ahead at the darkened stage. The theatre was a better option than the office.

He regretted agreeing to go— but the desire to get out has won in the end. He had the false impression he could lose his father in the crowds. His ankle, even if better, slowed him down.

"Honor recommended it. Said you might need a change of scenery and that you'd like it." Mitchum browsed the program of The Lion King musical.

Honor. Honor was a traitor, siding with his father. She refused to use her only daughter's influence to convince his father to lay off. Or leave. Logan would be good with either. Desperately, Logan even called his mother. Surely _she_ missed him. She was no help at all.

So was Aaron Rosen.

"It's the closest thing to the zoo I could think of; I never liked Zoo. Poor animals locked in cages for breeding and display."

_'Poor Logan locked in a golden cage for breeding and display.'_ Logan couldn't help but bitterly think.

"Why can't we sit down there?"

"The only seats they had fit for your leg are the aisle seats. I can't stand sitting near the aisle." Mitchum cast a side-look at his son.

Logan huffed in dissatisfaction. An elegant excuse to avoid ordinary people. Logan longed to get lost in them. Here he was again, copped in closed quarters with father, in a theatre box as the crowd took their seats below.

**Xx**

At the end of the first act, Logan's eyes are brimming with tears. Logan Huntzberger didn't want to be king. By the end of the second act, Mitchum secretly wipes a tear. Logan's face is embarrassingly wet.

Even Simba couldn't escape his destiny. "I want out. I want out of everything."

"Logan, I know it might not look like it now, but cutting Chelsea out of your life might as well be the best thing that ever happened to you." Mitchum rolled the program in his hands.

"You mean the best thing you that happened to you." Logan spat his eyes defiantly fixed at the stage.

Mitchum didn't bother to deny it. Why waste breath on denying the truth. "With his girl, there's always something tearing you apart. It always lasts so much longer than you counted on. And it hits you so much harder than you thought."

"You are not listening to me…"

"You want out?"

"Yes," Logan says venomously.

"Okay." Mitchum counters calmly, "Why?"

Logan can't find the words. Or maybe he can't find a reason.

"Huntzbergers don't quit. You get up, dust off, and you double down. Do you need time? I'll give you all the time in the world." Mitchum tapped his son's knee with the rolled program, "But I dare you to move."

**~w~**

* * *

**January 2014**

"My headpiece is ringing off the hook with calls. Do you know who has become my best friend at work? Natalie. And she's not even in the same time zone as me." Shiri kept venting. "I have a headache."

"Nicole, you have been dethroned. Have some Advil." Kate throws a small bottle of pills at the office manager.

"I'm sure Natalie is nice." From Rory's personal experience, efficient would be the right word to describe Natalie. It seemed like neither Nicole nor Kate was up to talking the curvy woman's rant down.

"That besides the point. He keeps walking around, swinging that awful golf club and whistling that annoying Mary Poppins song every time he passes my desk." By he, Shiri means Logan.

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?" Kate egged on the rant.

"Today, he switched to the Kite's song at the end of the movie. He better not whistle the whole soundtrack."

"Ask Ben to tell him to stop." Rory tried to sound indifferent.

"You think I didn't? Ben said the only way to make him stop is to beat him at his game." Shiri puffed in frustration. "He's playing along with this, I'm telling you – they teamed up."

Rory silently agreed with Ben. "So whistle back. Did you come here for Disney song recommendations?

Shiri looked at Rory pointedly.

"I'm so staying out of this," Rory said quickly. She was never more thankful for the interruption of her shrilling phone. Her mood sky rocked at the name flashing on the screen. "Hey, Chip."

"_Chip?_" Nicole mouthed. Shiri smirked craftily. Kate's interest piqued.

"No, it's a great time! I'm free to talk, what's up?" Rory ignored her friends and picked up a pencil drawing little circles as the producer man rattled information down the phone. "This weekend? Yeah, I'm game. Send me the details? Alright. See you tonight."

"You've been keeping secrets from us, Gilmore!" Nicole accused the minute she hanged up the phone. "Why didn't you say you and the producer reconnected? The gossip well has been dry for weeks! Dish!"

"Just saying… someone didn't go back home to the holidays this year…" Kate singsonged.

"It's just a business. Chip's company is filming a commercials series, and they need someone for stills."

"On the weekend?" Shiri and Nicole shared a skeptic look.

"Time is money. You need to get as many scenes as you can."

"This innocent face doesn't work on us." Shiri pointed at the string bracelet decorating her wrist. "So he's not only just Chip by name, but he's also cheap on the gift department. No surprise, artists are poor."

"I think it's pretty." Rory twisted the bracelet on her wrist. Invisible strings. She adored the simple under the radar piece. She fell in love with it more every day. It was symbolic.

"It is pretty when you are, like, twelve?" Shiri looked her square in the eye. "Dump his ass, honey."

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" Logan and his impeccable timing.

"What are you? The attendance's police? I was on my way back to my desk." Shiri fired back at the man standing at the door with his golf club.

"Some people call me the space cowboy. Some call me the gangster of love. Some people call me Maurice." Rory caught the flickering glint in his eye. The smirk and dimples display on his cleaned shaved face. He was so embarrassingly happy lately. "Get there faster, and stop by my office. I need you to type something."

Logan leaves with the same sudden manner he showed up. Rory wondered if him whistling 'Let's go fly a kite' had anything to do with the fact that things were crazy good between them since Thanks Giving.

"That's a song, isn't it? What song is that?" Shiri showed no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Rory shrugged. Probably. She didn't know which.

"The joker by Steve Miller's Band. 'Space Cowboy' is a much better song, in my opinion. My brother used to listen to it on repeat until I pulled the tape out of the cassettes. It makes me feel old." Kate supplied a cultural tidbit that fell on Shiri's uninterested ears.

"You do know that he types faster than me, right? I've timed him. He types ninety words a minute. He just wants to show off his rocket model Lego." Shiri rolled her eyes, "Why did he stop going to New York again?"

"No idea," Rory responded. In all fairness, she wondered the same.

**~w~**

"A little to the left. Now, fix it a bit to the right. No, more to the right. I think it's crocked, don't you?" Logan directed the office manager to move the square vinyl cover per his instruction. Shiri stood barefoot on the yellow couch. Holding two record covers leveled against the glass wall. Three more waited on the sofa. "Can you show me how it looks a little higher? I think that might look better."

Logan tapped the golf club on the glass wall a little higher.

Shiri huffed. "Get that club away from me."

"What is going on?" Ben took a minute to watch the scene unfold before him. Logan smirked at his friend, swinging his golf club aimlessly. Sometimes, well, most of the time, Logan enjoyed hassling Shiri just for sport.

"I'm redecorating." Logan offered offhandedly.

"FedEx delivered him a package from Califonia, and he decided he's gonna hall of fame his office. At least he didn't decide to pack up the whole office two floors up like last time." Shiri stepped down from the couch, turning the covers over. "Springsteen, The Fundations, Van Morrison, Patsy Cline, and I've never heard of this stereo-something. Questionable musical taste. Where did you get it from anyway?"

Ben's eyes focused on the last item. Dakota. Stereophonics.

"The record store." Logan avoided Ben's penetrating eyes, suddenly looked interested in tapping the various golf balls on the floor and arranging them in a line.

Ben took the records to cover off the office manager's hands. "You can get back to your regular job. Close the door."

The office manager glanced between the two men before leaving.

"Baby, now that I found you, I can't let you go?" Ben questioned, taking a seat on the yellow couch, rotating the Beatle's single of 'Ticket to Ride' in his hands, "Chelsea was feeling symbolic?"

"I suppose. Chapter closed." Logan confirmed, hitting the golf club against the first ball. "This is the return of the space cowboy, interplanetary, good vibe zone. No, we don't talk, and - yes, I'm taking my pills."

Ben picked up the Springsteen's record. Secret Garden. Theme from Jerry Maguire. The other two albums were a riddle. "You are not having a reversed breakdown on me, right? How's Rory?"

"Not pregnant." Logan gave the answer he always gives when Colin or Ben asks.

"Where is Rory?" Ben moved to his next question.

The second ball missed the cup he used as an improvised hole. "No idea. I'm not her babysitter."

"Right. Just her baby partner."

Logan slowly grazed the next ball in the line. "Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Take a chill pill." Logan refocused his attention back on the line of balls.

"Um, Logan." Ben's voiced his name after a few moments.

"Yeah…?" Logan asked, aiming his swing to guide the golf ball into the cup lying on the carpet.

"Why is your dad here?"

"What?!" Logan's whole body whipped around in the direction of Ben's gaze. The golf club went flying out of his hands, and Logan winced at the smashing sound of glass. Ben slapped his forehead in despair. The gold club laid once again, surrounded by shimmers of glass.

Mitchum Huntzberger squinted his eyes at his son.

"Oh! you have got to be kidding me!" Shiri's voice vocalized Logan's sentiment exactly.

**~w~**

* * *

"Hugo approached me with this. He's shopping for publishing rights." Mitchum laid out a sample of colorful chromo comic strips on Logan's counter top, "Originally posted on Facebook, didn't gain a lot of followers. Hugo tells me that followers equal readership. Why am I explaining that to you? You understand this stuff better than I do. He thinks it works better in print, and he thinks you'll agree with him."

Mitchum looked up to find his son's back turned on him. Head buried in the refrigerator.

"Logan?"

"Listen, Dad, when Rory gets here..." Logan checked the labels on the medication blocking out his dad's chatter. He was trying to remember which he should be using tonight.

It's was Monday, and Logan wasn't thrilled about his father crashing the party. What more, Rory's phone went straight voice mail; texts were left unanswered. Logan assumes she'd show up in time for dinner. Monday is Monday.

And nothing kept the girl away from food.

"Did you know she used to work for Hugo?"

"I'm familiar with her resume," Logan responded absentmindedly, scratching his head, trying to remember where did he put the syringe.

"It still needs some work. A good editor will do great things with it. What do you think?" Mitchum went back to discussing the comics. "Logan." His father called his attention.

"Since when do you pay attention to comic?"

"Hugo thought I might express interest. Can't say he was off the mark."

"You came all the way to Seattle to discuss some comics with me? I haven't been doing anything remotely related to print for the last three years. Maybe longer."

"If you had come home for Christmas, as discussed, instead of hiding out in Seattle with your girlfriend. I wouldn't have to." Mitchum pushed the manuscript over the counter forcing his son to look at it. "The protagonist is a photographer from Seattle, goes by the initials R.G. rings a bell?"

"She's not my girlfriend." Logan retorted instinctively, slowly taking the comics strips. "First time I see this."

The Ferris wheel. The Planetarium. The Pyramid staircase. Bits of their boat fight. Casablanca airport.

"…Target the female readership. That way, we can better control this if this is under our thumb. I'd rather it ran by us. I reckon you agree?" Mitchum Huntzberger watched his son's expression change from caught off guard to emotional to full-on angry.

The older man knew his heir had not heard a single word.

Logan tried to fight the lump in his throat. He knew Rory draws comics like scribbles of phrases she finds funny. He first came across it on the ferry - the washed sperm, for example. Others, he found lying around randomly when he spent time at her place.

It was clever. Entertaining even. But this, this was something else.

Logan's saliva tasted like metal, like a betrayal.

"Logan, are you listening to me?" Mitchum questioned.

The younger's man eyes snapped to his father. "Are there more of these?"

"A bunch," Mitchum pulled a bonded manuscript out of his business case, "Some are better than others. It looks like they are mostly stand-alone. A good editor can take these places."

"No one is taking this anywhere. I'm shutting this down."

The front door suddenly slammed.

"Alright, Huntzberger! just poke me with that thing, and let's get it over with; I'm starving! Did you hear about the new Indonesian place? Chip said it's amazing! Let's check it out; I had the best day you wouldn't believe…" Rory stopped in her tracks. Frozen in the awkward arrangement of a hat in one hand, the camera angled awkwardly, holding her red coat midway off.

Both men squinted at her in the same way. Like she has fallen through the roof.

"Mr. Huntzberger. It's Monday." Rory blurted instinctively, her eyes sending Logan a panicked look.

Logan's eyes blazed back at her.

"Hello, Rory. I recall we agreed on Mitchum. I missed you at the office today. Good day?" Mitchum greeted and turned to his son, "My guess the lady did not know I was coming?"

"No one knew you were coming. I called." Logan answered snappily. He deliberately turned, collecting the necessities for the evening ritual. "Be right back."

Rory hurried past his intimidating father following Logan's lead to the bedroom. The man offered her a facilitating smile she couldn't make sense of.

"Did our wires got crossed?" Rory asked carefully.

"No." Logan busied himself with the preparation for the shot. Inserting the syringe into the cap and drawing out the liquid.

"Your dad's here." She finished removing her outdoor wear, throwing all items on the bed.

"I know. He is hard to miss." Logan tapped the syringe squinting tiny drops flow off the needle. He stubbornly didn't meet her eye.

"Why is your dad here? A little warning would have been appreciated. You could have called..."

"I did. If you had answered your cell or checked your messages…" Logan said, irritated, "Stomach or thigh?"

"My phone died. What is he doing here? Did you know he was coming?"

"Does it looks like I knew he was coming? He just showed up. It wouldn't be a surprise if you weren't playing hooky for the day." The blonde repeated, "Stomach or thigh?"

"Stomach." Rory pulled up her shirt, granting access to her lower abdomen averting her eyes. She hated the needles. She reached for her camera. "Wait – I need to document this."

"Rory, I don't have time for this. And I'm not in the mood." Logan was mad. Rory could tell by the clench of his jaw.

"Why is he here?" She asked again.

"He's here because of you. Keep still." Logan's hands pinched the skin, preparing to insert the needle.

"Me?"

"Yes. You." Logan answered tightly. A cloud of anger lingered over his head.

"Why are you mad?"

"Care to explain why Hugo handed my father a bunch of comic strips vividly portraying every single intimate interaction we had?" The content of the syringe finished emptying into her tissues.

"Ow, Logan, did you have to make it hurt?"

**~w~**

* * *

"So, Monday is date night? That's a great idea. Must run this by your mother." Mitchum moved his gaze from Logan's dejected form and smiled at Rory. Logan only scowled back.

"Something like that," Rory answered carefully, eyeing the younger Huntzberger. He had clammed up after her partial confession in the bedroom and remained extremely snappy, or standoffish at best, for the rest of the night.

"How about more wine?" Mitchum went to re-fill Rory's glass, trying to ease the tension.

Rory quickly covered her glass.

"She can't drink," Logan stated.

"Oh." The older man's eyes ping-ponged between his son and the lady sitting at the table. Neither indicated any will to share news, "I apologize. I'm flying out later tonight. Maybe I should pace myself too."

"Would be wise," Logan concluded tightly. The rest of the wine left un-poured.

"Interesting choice this Indonesian food. You know, Rory, I travel a lot but never came across it before. So, tell me more about the comics. Is it finished? or it's still a work in process – Hugo wasn't very clear about that."

Logan's eyes stayed unwavering on her. He wanted an answer too.

"Ah… actually… I've been toying with some stuff. But I haven't put anything down…" Rory trailed off at Logan's thunderous face. "I don't know yet."

"What do you think, Logan?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. We're not going to run this."

"Ruth thinks this has great potential. A wide range of female audiences is looking for relatable women content, content created by women. They are looking for a storyteller who understands the female experience. What's it like to be a woman. Her words, not mine." Mitchum pointed out, amused, "According to her, I'm a white privilege male."

Rory couldn't help but smile at the praises the Newspaperman throw around. The great Mitchum Huntzberger conducted a pitch for her work. To his very objective son.

"Who's Ruth Gonzales?" Rory's eyes pinged ponged between father and son.

"Ruth is a copy editor for Mary Claire. She and Logan go way back." Rory's head went spinning with jealousy at the implied interaction. Mitchum diverted the subject. "Tell me more about your film photography thing."

"You've run this by Ruth Gonzales?" Logan asked for clarification before Rory has the change to dive into her favorite topic of the night.

The man with the yellow tie turns back to Logan, "I reckoned this would serve your interests better."

"Nothing about this serves my interests," Logan answered firmly. The vine in his forehead throbbed. It was like watching a bomb ticking away.

"Five hundred words 'dump his ass, honey' advice columns are dead and buried. People don't want to be told what to do anymore. They want stories, and they want to shout out their feedback. Be reactive. Be included. This is a conversation starter."

"No." Logan kept his persistence. "You don't get involved."

"With a little work, this could be premium content. Visuals are the future. No other magazine is currently doing anything like it. You've been saying storytelling is the direction we need to go for years. This could be the talk of the year."

"No."

Watching his father interact and take, what slowly Logan realized, a genuine interest in Rory was unnerving. Logan's head nearly exploded with anger and irony.

"I'm going to make it very clear, to the both of you," Logan made sure to meet his father's and his baby partner's eyes. "This is private, and it's going to remain private."

"No one can hardly recognize it's you. I censored your name. There is no other identification. Always drawn from the back." Rory reasoned for the fifth time tonight. He was just unreasonable.

"You plenty imply my identity. Who else could L.H. could be?"

"Liam Hemsworth." Mitchum offered only to meet with Logan's deathly stare.

"Butt out, Dad," Logan warns bluntly.

Rory looked at Mitchum, stunned. "You know who Liam Hemsworth is?"

Logan pushed his chair back, "I need some air."

Rory set to follow him for the second time tonight. A heavy hand rested on her arm to stop her. She turned to look at the older version of Logan. Blue eyes instead of brown. "He needs a couple of minutes. Trust me."

**~W~**

* * *

When Logan returns with the fainted hint of cigarette smoke, Mitchum settled the bill and made his excuses to leave. Logan flinched away when his father tried to squeeze his shoulder. The newspaperman rewarded Rory with a peck on the cheek and a card.

Rory and her baby partner stand side by side on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant watching the man he calls father sped away in a taxi. Rory can't even begin to assess the damage.

"Look at you, getting a card," Logan commented sarcastically.

Logan was in a foul mood. Rory felt robbed of her Monday night dinner. Her secret version of Logan now traded with this spiteful version. She could feel the blow-out approaching. Something deep inside tells her Logan was just holding off the fight because of his father.

"I didn't go to your father for a job, Logan. He came to me with an opportunity. I didn't even think there was a chance he'd lay his hands on this." Rory pulled her red coat tighter around her.

"And your gonna take it."

"You heard what he said; this is a great opportunity. Not all of us have the opportunities you have. It's not as easy when it's not handed to you."

"Oh, this is handed to you. Don't be naïve." Logan spat, holding out his hand to flag down another taxi.

"Your dad is professional. A professional who thinks something I've created has an audience. It's a vote of confidence. And not only him, but a bunch of other people too. No one has ever thought it was good before. Ben didn't, the people on the internet didn't, my mom hated it. You out of all people should relate."

"He's not doing this out of the kindness of his heart; he's not doing it because he thinks you're talented. He's not doing this because he thinks it's worth something - He's doing it because you're with me."

"I'm not _with you_. I'm your baby partner." Rory looked at him argumentative, missing the look he gives her. "No, he doesn't."

"Yes, he does. I know him. I know his every expression, his every nuance. If he has you under his thumb, he has me under his thumb. He must be relishing in his sweet revenge, considering how successful it all went." He says almost accusingly. "I should have seen this coming."

"You know what, Logan? Even if he does - I don't care. I deserve that chance. Even if he does it because he thinks I'm your dirty little secret -"

"He doesn't think you are my dirty little secret. Nobody thinks that!" Logan says tightly, "Stop twisting my words. I don't want you working for him, Rory. I'm trying to protect you."

The attempts to hail a taxi continues.

"No, you're not. You're throwing a hissy because you don't get your way. I don't need your protection." Rory protested, "Funny. You have a problem with me working for him, but you have no problem working for him yourself. And you surely don't have a problem with me working for you. That's some double standard."

"Working for my father is not keeping it separated. That's the deepest level of immersing yourself in the Huntzberger universe."

A taxi finally stops.

"Oh, yes! The horrible Huntzberger life. What's so wrong about the Huntzberger universe anyway? The charmed life is just fine when it suits you." Rory says harshly. He is just like her mother. "If you are a part of it - Why shouldn't I be?"

"You better not say things you know nothing about, Rory." He warns. Logan holds the door of the taxi, waiting. "Get in."

"No." She stays put, refusing him, "Give me a reason why I shouldn't. A good reason."

Logan slams the taxi door forcefully, his temper finally evident. The arguing couple remain standing in the street. The driver doesn't waste his time and drives away.

"Because you are never going to be a Huntzberger! You are mine. Just mine! He doesn't get a foot in it."

Rory takes a step back. Why does he always throw the most candid confessions at the most inappropriate times?

"You want to quit working at Current? Go ahead – quit! But we both know you don't want to – you had every opportunity to walk out – and you didn't. No one's stopping you. I'm not what's keeping you there."

"So what's keeping me there? Oh, you wise one." She challenges him.

"You're scared of your own shadow." It's scary how he reads right through her.

"So are you, Mr. Huntzberger obligations!" She retorts without a beat.

Low blow. She can tell by the way he whipped around the conversation back at her.

"You think it's all so easy for me? I don't want that life." He slaps his fist on hand for emphasis, "All I have is one door. New York is the end game – I can't avoid it, but I can postpone it. You don't know everything, so you better keep your mouth shut."

"I never know because you don't tell me anything!" She stumps her foot in frustration.

"Like you tell me, huh? What do you want my soul or something? Why should I tell you anything?" Logan shook with anger. She never saw him this angry. Not even after Fez. "Why would I trust you when you go around my back, selling your kiss and tell, spilling private moments all over the internet?!"

"Why not? I'm your baby partner. I deserve it." Rory can't believe her boldness, "I didn't go behind your back, Logan. We are keeping things separated; that's how _you_ wanted it, remember?"

"This isn't part of the deal!" Logan's hands grasp at his hair in frustration. "What were you even thinking of putting it down on paper!?… What had possessed you to publish it… to shop it around?"

"You gave me the comics idea! You and your 'comics is the non-judgmental part of the paper' logic."

"What are you talking about!? I didn't tell you to splash out your love life in a cartoon! You choose to do that. That was all you."

"You don't even remember. How typical of you! Don't you just love to build me up, mess me around, and knock me back down." He words pick up speed, "I created something! I don't know why everyone keeps telling me you are my 'go-to' guy on this. From the moment you've found out about it, all you've been doing all night is see red and shoot daggers at me."

"What did you expect?! A round of applause? A standing ovation? What did you want me to say? Good job?" Logan throws his hands in question, "I'm not going to do that! You have put, nearly every intimate moment you had with who-knows-how-many-guys, including me, very graphically down to paper - and you didn't even ask for my permission!"

"I don't need your permission; you are not my boyfriend!" Rory Gilmore counters at him.

"That is beside the point." He returns hotly.

"This is exactly the point!" She yells back at him. "You wanted separate – separate this!"

A lull. Both are out of insults or truths.

Rory Gilmore recomposes herself with a deep breath, The parallel to the latest conversation with Lorelai is flashing before her eyes. "I know all the games you play, Logan. You are not going to guilt me or Huntzberger me into having your way. You don't have to like it, but don't get to have a say in this. I'm taking this opportunity, and tomorrow I'm telling Kate all about you."

They both simultaneously sigh.

"Come on," Logan says. His features still angry, but his voice is mellow.

"Where?" She asks suspiciously.

"Home." His face gains some composure, "This is not how I wanted tonight to go."

**~w~**

* * *

"His dad was in town."

"Did you know the human head weighs 8 pounds?" Ben countered back with a fact, adding the sugar into his coffee. "No offense, Rory. Logan doesn't end up on my couch when he clashes with Mitchum. That's what getting hammered with Colin and Finn, and Flasky is for."

Rory nearly threw her arms around the tall man's neck when he cornered her by the elevator the next morning, saying: "let's talk comics." Once again, Rory is not quite sure if he means comics-comics or code for Logan. They had collided now, so maybe one is the same. Nevertheless, Rory need not be asked twice to turn on her heels.

"Mitchum wants to publish my comics. I'm taking him up on his offer." Rory felt like a huge balloon left her lung once she admits it to Ben.

"He does? You do?" Ben's expression is utterly surprised. Apparently Logan didn't share. "You really should have started with that."

"Logan flipped."

"You blind-sided him. Logan doesn't handle being blind-sided too well."

"I did not."

Ben took a sip of his coffee for a deliberated pause, "Rory, he's never going to show his hand if each time he starts to get comfortable with the situation, you throw him a curve-ball and kick him off the couch."

"I didn't kick the cat."

"Why do we always get to the point I always have to spell it out to you?" Ben sighed, "You are about to broadcast his private universe and heart for all to see. Nationwide. At the courtesy of his father, out of all people. You left him no control of the narrative, didn't ask his permission, didn't consult him on it. He didn't even know about its existence. He feels betrayed."

"No one is going know it's him anyway."

"Logan is gonna know," Ben concluded simply. "Rory, Logan didn't just crash your date with Joel at the Thompson to up you one. He was protecting his perfect memory from being tainted."

The expression on her face turned from stubborn to slightly remorseful.

"Logan might be a thirty-something years old man, but mentally he is five. He gets over-dramatic when it comes to Mitchum in general. It's not always justified. Right now, he is terrified his favorite toy will be confiscated." Ben stirred his coffee unfazed. "I doubt he's happy his father is involved. But he's not going to deprive you of an opportunity, that's not his style. He'll cool off and come groveling with some stupid grand gesture."

Rory bites her lip.

"What?" Ben asked, alarmed.

"He fixed it."

"He fixed what?"

"The comics. I woke up this morning, alone, all the furniture pushed to the side, and I found the comics laid out on the floor– sequenced, numbered. Post It to indicate where to fill the blanks." Rory described the scene she woke up to, "There's also a pile of sketches which, according to him, are: 'Trash. Stay on message'. And he's right. It is better this way."

Ben smiled, "I told you so. Logan is the master of narrative."

"I don't understand; he was so against it last night." Rory rubbed her temples, "What do I do now?"

"Start filling the blanks - and publish it," Ben stated simply.

"But you just said…"

"Sounds like Logan spent most of the night channeling his inner Picasso. He fixed it. You stayed the night." Ben gave her a soft smile, "Stop fighting him on definitions and just be in the moment and enjoy him."

Rory took a sip from her own coffee. Cold. Yuck.

"He walks with a spring in his step; he whistles while he works. I'm afraid that if I poke him, he'll burst and spray love juice on me." Rory's eye widened at the visual his choice of word sprung to her mind, "You're doing something right, just ease up on the poor guy a little. He has some right to be upset about this."

* * *

**~w~**

Rory sat Indian style on a pillow staring at her dissembled manuscript laid out on Logan's wooden floor. It's what she's been doing ever since she got back from work—taking in the nuances. Logan had cast out into the "garbage" pile nearly all the comics mentioning other guys.

The rattles of keys, the now-familiar thud of the gym back dropping by the door. Logan is kicking off his shoes. Rory keeps her back to the door listening to his sock-covered strides.

"Hey."

"Hey." His drawl sends shivers of uncertainty down her spin.

"No one has ever dumped me quoting Humphry Bogart." Rory isn't sure what exactly makes her say that. Maybe because something in her knows he'll react. Perhaps, because when things were great before Fes, she made a career move and Logan dropped her like a hot potato.

"I wasn't trying to make history."

"No. it was just you being you. Doing that thing you do. Breaking my heart into a million pieces, like you always do." Her hands hide in her sleeves. Even after her conversation with Ben, Rory can't place the roots of Logan's dismay, "Is it him or me?"

"It's both." He answers.

"When I started doing this, I didn't think you'd ever be more than a one night stand. Like most of them." It's the only thing she finds worth saying when he lowers himself down to the floor. Logan buries his face in her hair. It's strange how intimate this is. "Should I.. keep filling the blanks?"

"I'm not okay with this. Yet." He says quietly into her hair, "I'd rather you don't work with him. But, I can't tell you not to."

Rory's heart can't help but flutter. Ben was right. Ben is always right.

"My mom hates this too. You two are very alike." Rory speaks, "She's my best friend in the whole wide world. She had this vision of me, of what my life should look like, of who I should be… but I'm not. I couldn't keep up the charade anymore after the night in the pyramid. Mom already stumbled upon the truth; there was no point to keep lying to everyone."

Logan's face is kept buried in her hair. He says nothing, she can't feel him breathing, but something tells her he's listening.

"I was flailing. I didn't have a plan or a list or a clue what I'm doing. I was just biding my days, wasting my time, dating guys I shouldn't be dating, or didn't want to date, spending my weekends capturing other people's happy ever after. The only thing I really like about my day job - is the breaks."

She stops to process her words.

"You told me, in the laundry room, that in comics - even if you missed a few installments and you pick it up later - they still feel like old friends. It gave me some hope, you know? If tell her through comics, maybe she'd still be disappointed and judgmental, but I hoped she'd be less..." The rest of her words chokes in her throat. "Logan, please say something."

"I kinda suspected the breaks thing. Come here." His left arm sneaks around her waist, pulling her closer. Rory notices for the first time the bandage on his hand.

"What the hell happened to your hand?" Her face whip around to look at him.

"Oh, that." He refers to the white bandage dismissively, "I landed wrong while climbing. It's just a sprain, I've been worse. Unless you want to kiss it better?" A smirk spreads across his face; his dimples pop out.

Rory jabbed her fist into his upper arm. "You're so full of yourself."

"Exercising violence to an already hurting party is not how making up goes, Rory."

"Oh, is that what you're doing?"

"If you hit me, I don't."


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N:__ I don't think it qualifies a rating raise due to some scenes, but if anyone else feels this way - feel free to let me know.__ I wouldn__'t get use to it, I don't expect this to repeat. __I entirely blame the direction this chapter took on my feverish mind (actual fever, no worries it passed. All is well)._

_One more comment. So, yeah. I've totally messed up their ages. So after checking Gilmore Wiki. Logan born in 1982, Rory born in 1984. I'll go back and fix it where needed. My apologies._

_Keep safe._

* * *

**January 2014**

"Not that I'm complaining or anything. I am always enthusiastic about spending my extended lunch break shopping. But how did you score this extended lunch, and what are we shopping for?" Kate inspected a little black dress. Rory dismissed the suggested garment with a head shake; it didn't send the right message.

"Marie Claire wants to publish my comics. I have nothing to wear to the meeting next week."

"Come again?"

"Marie Claire wants to publish my comics. I ha…"

"Stop right there! That is awesome, Rory! How? When did that happen?"

Rory grinned. Finally, someone was happy about it. Just plain delighted for her. No judgment. No hidden agenda. No projecting feelings and unfounded fears on her. Kate didn't lecture her how she went all wrong about it. "I asked my old boss, Hugo, to sniff around when I was back east last Thanks Giving. I got the news on Monday."

Rory decided to leave out the details of the personal delivery.

"Is that why you weren't at work? Boy, you have no idea what you missed. Logan's dad showed up, and the golf club went through the glass wall again. I can't believe I've lost that bet."

Today, Shiri was keeping a careful eye on the contractor replacing the glass with plaster walls in Logan's office. Rory used the term very loosely. The office manager was practically leering, and Logan was quick to point it out. It certainly didn't win him his golf club back.

"So, I'm meeting the editorial team to discuss where we go from here. And I have to dress to impress. It has to say creative but professional, artistic, but savvy." Rory didn't want to dwell on the details of Mitchum Huntzberger's visit. The glass wall wasn't the only thing Mitchum's presence shattered.

"Why are we doing wasting our time in this store? Haven't you watched Project Runway? Everyone knows Nina Garcia's street brand is Banana Republic."

**Xx**

"I know Chip gave you this bracelet, and it's sentimental and such. But you know, this might clash with the sophisticated ensemble. Maybe you should take it off."

"Chip didn't give me the bracelet. I already told you I'm not dating Chip." Rory has lost count how many times she had said in the past few weeks. "And I'm not taking it off."

Rory stepped out of the elevator, and the Graphic designer followed, quickly blocking her way back in the office. "Okay, fine, I'll bite, who then?"

"2 o'clock." Rory hinted to her friend, her voice nearly over a whisper.

Kate glanced over her shoulder. Logan and Ben were standing side by side in Ben's door, inspecting the transformation of the CEO office. Logan is bouncing a tennis ball; they briefly make eye contact.

Kate's mouth opened and closed like a fish.

The next thing Rory knows, she and her bags are hurriedly pushed back towards the stairs.

"Logan? Rory, what is wrong with you? Logan? Oh boy, the guys were right…." Kate rested her hand over her heart, pacing the stairs, "I had my suspicions too, you know. He flirts with everyone, but you always seemed to know stuff and how to work him. And you always got way too sensitive or spaced out whenever…"

"I did not."

"Are you kidding me?" Kate spun towards her quickly, "How long?"

"I swear I didn't know he was the boss the first time. It was just a night one stand." Rory admitted uncomfortably under Kate's expecting expression. The blue-haired woman wasn't born yesterday. "Since Christmas 2011."

Kate's eyes boggled at the added timeline.

"Oh my god! Three years? We have conspired over his sex life for years, and you just sat there. You've been keeping this from me for three years?"

Framing it like that sounded completely different from the sporadic wrinkles in time they conducted.

"There was nothing to tell; it was a random, no strings thing. We weren't even doing it in Seattle." Rory can't help but get defensive. Aside from a few slips, Rory silently confessed to herself. "We were seeing other people. It's complicated."

"And now there's strings." Kate determined, shaking Rory's left wrist on which she proudly wore the string bracelet, "You're not just screwing Logan. You're dating Logan."

"Kind of. It's complicated." Was she? Rory played with her string bracelet. Ben said she should stop fight Logan on definitions and just enjoy him.

"What do you mean, 'kind of' – either you are or your not." Kate met Rory's uncertain expression, "Do you go out on the town together?"

"Sometimes, on Mondays. We mostly stay in." Rory swallowed the end of her words. He cooks her dinner. They sometimes wake up in the same bed. Lately, they weren't spending only Mondays together. They go to the supermarket. Logan dragged her to the vintage record store a few times.

"So it's just sex? or do you talk about other things other than work when you 'hang out'?"

"We don't talk about work." Kate raised her eyebrows, "It's not just sex."

Rory leaves the core details of their arrangement out.

"What's the color of his toothbrush?"

"Blue."

"Oh, honey." Kate squeezed her hand, smiling, "I hate to break it to you, the star boy is your mother-fucking boyfriend."

"You can't tell anyone." Rory gripped on her friend's hand, suddenly frightened.

"Tell what? That you're having an affair with the Boss? Rory, everyone in the office already knows they're just keeping quiet about it to keep their job."

"What? no one knows, except Ben and now you."

Kate shook her head and looked at the photographer as if she was clueless, "Oh come on everybody talks. When they hire a new guy, Keith and Dylan give him the 'Rory Gilmore is off-limits welcome tour.' They say you have a B tattoed on your forehead, and they don't mean Ben."

**~w~**

* * *

"Hey, what do you think of this dress? Does it look fashionable enough? Kate said it would be perfect, but now, I don't know." Rory held out the selected dress at him.

"What?" Logan briefly looked up from the book. A few days ago, he picked up the Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close book off her night-stand. He stuck to it like glue. Logan slept in her bed for the third night in a row. Actual sleeping. Not the kind that sent him to surf channel the T.V. in the other room, or back to his apartment before 4 a.m.

If Rory ignored the fact he was using the book and the sleeping pills to block any other possible intimate interaction, she couldn't help but think it was quite sexy to have a man reading in her bed.

"I'm trying to figure out what to wear to my meeting with Marie Claire."

"Ah, the comics rears its ugly head again," Logan said he was okay with the comics. More precisely, 'fine with some aspects of it.' But the truth is he wasn't. At all. Because when Logan says he's fine - he's never fine.

"I want to look professional, but not too Lois Laney, and I don't want to look too eccentric."

"You are eccentric." His sprained hand turned a page.

"Not on Monday. On Monday, I'm a state of the art content woman. And I have to look like a state of the content woman."

"It's a women magazine. You're a woman, whatever you wear will be fine." Rory watched him with interest. He had no idea how much like his father he just sounded.

"Marie Claire is a fashion magazine. Have you never watched Project Runways? Nina Garcia is fierce."

"Can't say I have. You're not meeting Nina Garcia."

"I can't walk in there looking outdated. Or unstylish. You know Ruth Gonzales, what's her style like? What's the dress code? Come on," Rory danced a little hoping to coax some details out of him, that tactic always worked for her mother, "Tell me something."

"She likes red sexy lingerie. It's the only piece of clothing that caught my attention."

A clothes hanger flew right at him. "Logan, you're not helping!"

She can't ignore the dull pang in her heart with the confirmation that he slept with Ruth Gonzales. He aimed the dagger well. She understood the logic. If she's forcing him to discuss the comics revealing her past love life, he will repay her with the same coin.

"Technically, they can't discriminate you based on your outfit. Plus, you came parachuted by Mitchum, no one wants that trouble. You can come in naked, and they'll suck up to you." Logan was definitely not okay with the comics, "What about Monday night dinner?"

"What about it?"

"You're going be in New York. Is it canceled?"

Rory blinked. She hadn't thought about that. The contract only stated the terms of play when Logan wasn't around for Monday night dinner. Not the other way around. But suddenly the bowl turned over; Logan was staying put in Seattle, and she wasn't. "Do you want it canceled?"

Logan shrugged, turning another page. There's no way he is actually reading. "It's game night. Ben and I might do something."

"Oh. Right. Can we reschedule? Wednesday?" She offers. He hums, which Rory doesn't know if to take as a yes or a no. "What chapter are you on?"

"Six."

"Did he meet the Anna character yet?"

"Are you trying to ruin the book for me?"

"You've never read it?" He got a copy signed for her and never read it himself?

"Ben said it was the best one." Logan answered dismissively, "Can I be in the room?"

"You want to go to my meeting with Marie Claire?" Rory asked, surprised, "Should I even talk to you about Marie Claire?"

"No. I don't want anything to do with that." Logan closed the book, lifted himself off the bed, and pushed past her to brush his teeth. Rory checks the time. It's sleeping pills time.

Logan was an expert on placing and blurring boundaries at the same time. One minute they are mixing, the other they are forcefully thrown apart as possible - like electrons.

Like he was testing the waters.

Logan applies the toothpaste on the blue toothbrush. His sprained wrist bothers him. After her conversation with Kate, Rory suddenly takes notice that his stuff randomly pops around. A toothbrush, a razor, deodorant. A bottle of sleeping pills.

A few floors up, she has a matching set of her own.

Rory put her dress back in the closet and leaned on the bathroom door. "Oh. So what room?"

"The room where they get you pregnant." He spits the foam, rinsing his mouth with water.

"We agreed that…" Rory watched the muscles in his back stretch elegantly under his skin. His toned back from hours of sports.

"We never agreed." Logan reached for his sleeping pills next. His bedtime routine was getting familiar. In twenty minutes, he'd be dead to the world, head buried under the pillow until morning.

"You said fine." Rory winced at her words. It was well established that when Logan said fine…

His brown eyes hardened with suppressed anger. What follows next is the rattle of pills into his hand, the glass refilling with water. Logan downs the pills and wipes his mouth with the back of his good hand.

He shakes her hand off his arm as he walks past her again. Within seconds, he is flat on his stomach, and his head finds shelter under the pillow. The covers pools at his waist. Effectively blocking any farther conversation and any reaction she may have.

Carefully she climbs on top of the covers, pressing her face into the spot between his naked shoulders blades. "I'll think about it." She whispers against his warm skin. He smells like her body wash. "Logan, are you going to be mad at me forever?"

"Goodnight."

He's in her bed. Yet, Rory can't help but feel she's in the doghouse. How very Lorelai Gilmore of him.

No one holds a grudge better than an L.

**~w~**

* * *

"Alison? Are they kidding me? Alison got the promotion? I've been here longer than her!" Nicole angrily spilled her make up bag in front of the washroom mirror.

"I know, honey," Shiri sympathetically offered her a make-up wipe. Nicole dubbed the wipe around her eyes, wiping off the stains of mascara. "It's truly disappointing. You deserved it."

"Right? I did. Patel said he was sure I'm going to get it." Nicole's eye watered again.

"They must have their other considerations." Shiri offered her some comfort.

"Puff, we all know what other considerations." Nicole incited with a huff. Alison never bothered to hide her interest in a particular executive. Logan infuriatingly, or maybe intentionally, never completely shut it down.

Kate popped her bubble gum, studying her nails. Rory focused washed her hands under the warm water in the sink. Then she checked her hair in the mirror.

The promotions announced in today's staff meeting went unexpectedly south for Nicole.

"How come you're fine with it?" Nicole aimed her question at Rory. To her, Rory should be fuming as well, but Rory seemed unbothered. "If not me, then it should have been you."

"Why wouldn't I be fine with it? I didn't want the promotion. Larger salary, more responsibility." Rory re-adjusted her red blouse into her black A-cut skirt, making sure the strap of her lacey red bra peeked suggestively.

She knew Logan noticed.

When the staff meeting ended, her phone beeped with a text questioning whether the lower part matched. She took immense joy watching his eyes darken at her response. Rory prided herself on chucking her embarrassment aside and giving in to the impulse to purchase her first-ever high-end lingerie set.

With a specific man in mind.

She was going to give Ruth Gonzales a run for her money.

All this pant up anger he held had to get some release. And Rory decided they are going to play ball.

"Right, who in their right mind wouldn't like a bigger salary over flexible hours to play with their pet project?" Shiri rolled her eye. Rory was already notoriously known for cutting angles.

"I do my job. There are no complaints."

Kate popped her bubble gum again. Rory sent her skeptical friend a side look. It didn't take a genius to think Kate deduced why no one called her on her flexible working hours anymore.

"So, why are you dressed to impress?" Shiri gave her appearance a once over for the second time today.

"Just felt like it." She didn't dress to impress. Rory was on a seduction mission. "Did you know that everyone in New York looks like they're always going somewhere extremely festive?"

Rory's mind was still in New York.

The meeting with Marie Claire went beyond her expectation. She even had a late-lunch with her dad. He delivered her Christmas gift, a remote shutter release for the Cannon. Rory politely asked about her mom, Christopher politely asked about Logan. They talked some about GiGi. He footed the bill, and they went their separate ways.

"Let's go out tonight. I need to get hammered and shake it off." Nicole re-applied her mascara and her eyeliners in front of the mirror.

**~w~**

* * *

Rory's lettuce found its way into Logan's plate. Nicole eyed her disapprovingly.

Their rescheduled dinner plans officially tanked. During lunch, Nicole's misery night out turned to a promotion celebration outing. Much to Nicole dismay. By 4:00 p.m. Logan was challenged to a dart competition by Keith and Brian.

One of Logan's character flaws is that he can never refuse a dare.

But they somehow ended up sitting side by side, which is unusual. Logan strictly practices social distancing if after-hours socializing occurs. At work, he makes sure he's at least one-seat away, and the closer to his human buffer – Ben – the better.

"What?" Rory asked, annoyed.

"I don't understand why don't you just tell them just to leave it out if you're going to toss it," Nicole commented on the green leaves. "That's food waste."

"It left its essence." Rory kept assembling her hamburger, "It's not food waste. Logan will eat it."

Logan ordered a salad. He won't notice new greens when in he'll come back from the phone call he took outside. Rory knows he did it intentionally so that she won't nip into his food in public. And she won't- because nothing on his plate looks appealing enough to steal.

Rory spread a generous coat of mayonnaise on the top bun, intentionally ignoring Nicole's cholesterol talk. She loved pubs food. Especially on happy hours. The disapproving glare didn't budge. Rory was starting to think it wasn't about the lettuce. It was about Logan.

Nicole wanted to bitch out. She couldn't bitch out with Logan around.

"He's talking to his new flavor, isn't he? I never saw anyone this excited to accept a call and dash out." As usual, Shiri was more interested in Logan's actions.

"He's talking to his sister," Rory said. She saw Honor's name flashed on his phone screen. When he left the table, his hand brushed her thigh in a suggestive manner that promised no good. Rory quickly deflected any follow-up questions that will expose the fact that she met his sister. "How come we never talk about your love life?"

"Because my love life is dry as the Sahara desert."

"What did I miss?" Logan's hands bummed off Rory's fries as he reclaims his seat.

"Shiri says her love life is dry. Hey! Mine!" She covers them protectively. Their hands brush against each other, sending electrifying sparks down her spine. "Get your own."

He grins at her smartly, "I'll keep my hands to myself if you keep your lettuce off my plate."

"My love life is is none existing." Shiri corrected.

"Didn't you come to play darts?" Nicole huffed. She definitely wanted him gone.

"Can't win on an empty stomach." Logan chewed on some other fries in response, "Oh, and by the way, I gave the contractor your personal phone number."

Shiri's cheeks went rosy as she snarled back at him. "Good, I'm gonna ask him to set your golf club into the wall with cement."

**xx**

"Don't start what you can't finish." Rory's eyes rolled back at the sensation of his fingers edging her matching red panties. A business phone call put the dart game into a short break, and shortly after, Rory found herself pressed against the back wall in the most darkened corner they could find.

She should have never followed him outside.

"Who says I'm not gonna finish?" His deep drawl filled her ear. Rory instinctively pressed closer; the movement helped her feel the effect she had on him.

"Take me home." She gasped, shuddering as a daring finger bypassed the thin barrier. Rory's fingers quickly unbuckled his belt. Logan hissed when her hands made contact with his skin.

"Not yet." His finger dipped into her warmth, his lips sucking her moan, "I never walk away from a winning game."

The kitchen's back door slammed shut. The tad of a garbage bag hitting the metal container nearby put an abrupt stop to their frisky third base session.

The cold January night air replaced his withdrawing fingers. Rory's head went spinning with want at the loss of the friction. He can't leave her all heated like that. "You said you're gonna finish."

"I didn't say when. I have a dart game in progress. Keep that thought; I'm not done with you. Yet." Their hips grazed once more. Logan gave her one last feverish kiss and a hungry look before he smoothed her skirt back in place. "Go back inside; I need a minute."

Rory ran her hands over her skirt, breath heaving, her mind reeling with the realization that if they weren't interrupted, they would have gone all the way. Right there in the alley. And that is something Rory Gilmore would have never thought to do before.

She's always the bravest when she's with him.

"If you touch yourself when I turn my back, game over." Rory zipped up his slacks before disappearing back inside.

**xx**

The skirt was the first to go. Then Logan's shirt. By the time they collapsed on the bed in the 5th-floor apartment, Rory was sporting only the skimpy underwear and her heels. Shedding the rest of his clothes, Logan balanced himself on his forearms, hovering just within reach.

His lips pressed on her heated skin, peppering light kisses down her shoulder to the swell of her red lace covered breast. When he took her nipple into his mouth, she knew he had every intention to make her beg.

His right hand finally wandered down to peel off off the lower garment. Sensing his concentration, Rory hooked her leg over his and maneuvered him swiftly inside. Logan hissed at the sudden pressure on his injured wrist cause by the sudden balance shift. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of becoming one. For a flicker of a second, when he realized they were going bare, he stilled.

"Condom." He breathes.

Rory framed his face quickly, staring at him, "You're in the room."

She had never seen Logan's eyes this dark. Their lips crashed roughly. The passion in his second trust made her cry out his name.

**Xx**

"I'm getting too old for this." Logan collapsed exhausted against her in the aftermath.

"You're only 32." Rory responses in a hoarse voice. He chuckles into the nook of her neck, starting to withdraw, "Not yet." She wasn't ready to let go of him yet. The lingering shimmers of their union are her favorite part of a wrinkle in time. The way his hands turn tender. "What do you want for your birthday?"

"Nothing."

"You must want something. What? A Lego set? Hiking gear? Elizabeth Harley tied in a bow?"

"Are you going to lend her your outfit?" Logan murmured jokingly. "Because that might sell it. You can't wear this to work again."

"Funny man. Answer the question."

"I want to be in the room."

Rory bit her lip. It's becoming clear Logan decided to be adamant about it. "Maybe I should put my feet up."

"It doesn't help you know." Logan rolled off, his head hitting the pillow. "Staying in bed for fifteen minutes does the same trick."

"You read it in the book Mr. Scholar?" Rory teased, rolling to her side and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Yeah. There's a chapter about busting myths." He answers casually twirling a lock of hair around his finger. Soon he's going to start humming. Rory hadn't figured out the song yet, but it's always the same one.

"I like this."

"What sex?"

"No. You. Me." She says quietly, tracing his collar bone, "I never know when the next wrinkle in time is going to happen. They are sporadic and far in between, yet so filled with magic.. but when they do, time just freeze, and I never want them to end. So I capture them, to re-live them, that way they last a little longer. Not just in my imagination." She glances at his profile carefully, "That's why I draw them."

"Rory." Logan tense at the mention of the comics.

"Kate says everybody knows." She's just trying to make him understand, "I don't want to keep secrets just to keep you."

"It's not a secret, it's just not advertised." Logan sighed. "What else did Kate say?"

"That you're my boyfriend."

"Baby partner trumps boyfriends." Logan always has to say the last word. They are going around in circles. She knows she should take Ben's advice and stop fighting him on this. Obviously, there's something deeper under the surface. Otherwise, Ben wouldn't have mentioned it at all.

"It's not rock, paper, scissors. You can be both." Rory argues logically. He could deny it all he wants. Rory had made her decision that he is. Logan will just have to deal.

"What's up with your other friend?" Logan dismisses yet another conversation about definitions.

"Who? Nicole?" Logan nods. "She's sore about the promotion. She thinks Alison got it because she is giving you blow jobs under the desk."

Logan chuckled amused, "Seriously, you can't wear this outfit to work again."

"You haven't seen me in the blue one yet." She eases into their comfortable banter, "Is your hand okay?"

"Throbs a little, nothing physiotherapy won't sort." He inspected it in the air, "How was New York?"

Rory broke into a smile. Happy that he mellowed and opened a crack of communication. She expected to hit a wall if New York ever came up. She never thought Logan would be the one to bring it up.

"My dad got me a remote shutter release for Christmas."

"Oh, dear lord."


	32. Chapter 32

_AN: Hello to my very very patient readership. I've been unwell for a while and needed to caught up with my RL and crafting this has taken some time. __I have no idea how many people are actually reading this but never in my wildest dreams did I expect to reach 500+ reviews. __I want to thank again to all of you who review, favorite, follow, the silent readership and to all those who comes back to this story again and again. _

* * *

**February 201_4_**

_**Seattle**_

"Put the camera down, or I'm not doing it." Logan kneels in front of her thigh, holding the syringe in his hand.

"I'm documenting everything. Including the injections. Come on." Rory sat on the edge of the bed, her eye pressed to the lens. She spread her legs for better access. He can see her lacey black underwear peeking under the skirt pushed high on her thigh. She staged the whole photo to the small details. "You want a kid or not?"

"Not like this, I don't." Their eyes meet their wants battling. "This is over-excessive documentation. This is a private moment."

"You're not even in the picture."

"It's my hand holding the syringe."

"It's in the contract, remember? Anywhere, anytime. Just stick the needle, Logan. I waxed for this."

Logan pursed his lips and put the plastic cap back on the needle. "No. Do it yourself. I'm not taking any part in this demented idea."

Rory lowered the camera slowly. She hated the needles. "You're not serious."

"Watch me." He stood up, taking the syringe with him to the bathroom.

"But –" Rory started to protest following him. Logan leaned his hands on the sink counter, looking at her through the mirror. The shadow on his face told her he wouldn't budge on this. "Fine. Then move."

Rory placed the Canon on the marble and started to take her clothes off. Once in her sexy underwear, she picked it up again, playing with the timer setting.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing this myself." She stated stubbornly. She uncapped the needle and stared at it with dread for a minute. There was a reason Logan was the one giving the shoots. When he was out of town, she'd go down to the clinic so that a nurse would do it. "I set the timer for a minute. Step aside if you don't want to be in the picture."

He shook his head disapprovingly at her but left the room. In the mirror, she could see he never went farther than the bed. She sees his funky socks sticking out over the edge. She pinched the skin in her stomach. She would have preferred shooting the thigh to avoid showing the blue spots under her bellybutton from the previous injections.

Rory closed her eyes and injected the medication into her flesh. The Camera automatically snapped a series of sequential shots. Done, Rory threw the empty syringe into the trash and picked up the camera, and stepped back out into the bedroom.

"You okay?" Logan asked from his position lying on the bed. His eyes fixed on the ceiling.

She switched the camera into display mode to look at her handy work. "Uff. It's all blurred; we have to take another shot tomorrow. Maybe it's better to use a tripod and the shutter clicker."

He looked at her with evident discontent, **_"_**_We_ are doing nothing of that sort."

**~w~**

* * *

"You need to fire your assistant. She is a useless source of information; we've been waiting for over an hour. Natalie always knows where you are." Finn sat crossed-legged on the yellow couch, bouncing his tennis ball up in the air.

Finn was the last man Logan expected. And he wasn't alone.

"She knows what I want her to know." Logan countered back simply. Logan lived by that logic for most of his life. Shiri didn't need to know he was depositing his sperm at the clinic during his late lunch break.

"Don't we all," Colin commented dryly. His hands shaped diamond behind his back as he stood looking at the line of music records hanging on Logan's wall. He pointed at the Van Morrison one. "Care to explain?"

No, Logan didn't care to explain.

"What's with the tie?" Finn aimed another question at Logan.

From the corner of his eye, Logan could see Shiri ears adjust like spy satellites. She leaned back in her chair so far he was sure she'd fall off her chair any minute. To her disappointment, Ben ushered himself in, closing the glass door behind him.

"He got a hickey the size of Montana on his collar."

"It's not the size of Montana." Logan graced his business partner with a pointed look. Priz spotted the love bite on Logan's neck the minute he took off his scarf on Thursday. An unfortunate side effect of a quick rendezvous in the shower. Rory had every intention to take advantage of the narrow window of time the doctors did allow sexual activity. Her recent discovery that sex lulled him for a few hours of un-medicated sleep fueled her newfound friskiness

Ben and Priz mercilessly teased him throughout dinner. Logan's only payback pleasure was watching Ben awkwardly to explain to Miealla what a hickey is. The brown-haired man stuttered a scrambled explanation about vampires, and things she'll understand when she's old enough.

Miella argued she's six. Ben came to the concluding instruction that from now on, she was not allowed to play with boys. Ever. Logan smirked at his friend. He did not handle that well.

"Oh my. The little vixen." Finn grinned amused.

Logan blushed. His bruise was healing, but the only way to hide it was to button his shirt all the way up properly. Buttoned up shirt looked ridiculous without a tie. Tie without a jacket looked gay. Logan ended up dressing like he was heading into the New York office.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's your birthday, of course. Would you rather not spend it with us?"

"It's not my birthday yet. You're a few days early."

"Since you couldn't possibly getaway, we thought we'd trade Aspen for Whistler this year." The lawyer's eyes fall on Logan's bad wrist. "But I see you're inadequate for skiing. Maybe, if you weren't over exhausting the organ…" Colin implied cheekily. The lawyer's hand makes a stable and quick gesture of handwork. Additionally, his eyes lowered towards his friend's private organs.

"It takes longer to heal than I thought. The inflammation took forever to die down. I'm getting old." Logan flexed and stretched his wrist. "And I use my other hand."

"Colin, you owe me a fifty. This is the easiest money I've ever made." Finn waved the money transacted from Colin into his wallet, "I'm sure she'd give you a hand if you asked. So pack your bags. Off to Canada we go! You can still play poker with that hand, don't you?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present!" Finn announced.

Logan quickly exchanged a cautious glance with Ben. His hesitation was not lost.

"Ben's coming too. He doesn't trust us to bring you back in one piece." Colin raised his eyebrows at Logan daring. "In Omnia Paratus."

"Something tells me our boy had other plans for his birthday, Colin. Maybe a private party with the little vixen girlfriend of his."

"Baby partner." Logan corrected without a beat. The other three men returned him a tired look, and Ben added an eye roll for emphasis. Logan's insistence on the terminology was exhausting.

"Whatever. I'm wounded, Logan. Is he always like this? Has he lost all his vivacious personality?" Finn asked Ben. Ben nods, humoring the dramatic Australian. "What plans could you possibly have that out do my exquisite company?"

"I have this thing tomorrow. At the clinic." Logan involuntary revealed.

"You're not allowed in the room anyway. It makes no difference if you sit fiddling with your wedding ring sitting outside the exam room, or at the poker table." Colin pointed out.

"Colin." Ben shoot the lawyer a 'what the hell?' look. Sometimes it seemed like Colin left his tact hanging in the back of his expensive suit wardrobe. Or he simply didn't care.

"I'm allowed in the room," Logan argued. Tomorrow was egg retrieval, and he's going to be there, even if he has to glue himself to the chair. No one was going to ruin it for him. Not even his best friends and their best intentions.

"Fine. Finish your business first; we can go afterward. Ben, tell your wife I'm inviting myself over to dinner." Colin announced as a matter of fact. "Is Rory's coming? Or do baby partners are strictly wined and dined privately on Mondays?"

Logan pressed his lips together. He forgot Colin knew the inner details of their contract. Ben smirked teasingly. Priz has been trying to make him bring her along for months now. Logan has flat out refused.

"She's busy," Logan said through his teeth. The last time Rory had dinner with someone of the core circle of his acquaintances messed up things royally. And things were shaky as it is lately.

**Xx**

Rory played with the remote shutter release nervously. The canon clicked from its place on the tripod she set up. She knew the camera would catch the slit of her bareback. Hospital gowns are the most hideous, unpractical piece of clothing in the world.

"What kind of photography you do?" The doctor opted for small talk.

"Mostly stills. I'm getting into films now. I used to do weddings." Rory clasped the remote control, "It's okay that I'm shooting this, right?"

Dr. Pence shrugged, "I must say, while some people asked before, no one has ever set up the room with three cameras."

Logan was late. Whatever forms they suddenly wanted him to sign at the clinic front desk was taking forever. They hardly exchanged any words on their way to the clinic. Rory suspected Logan had a hangover. Colin and Finn were in town.

"It's usually the husband too." Ashley, the nurse, was checking her vitals. "Why so nervous today?"

Rory's eye studied Ashley's flawless hair. Not a hair out of place in her loose blonde bun. The dyed blonde carer squeezed her forearm as she took off the blood pressure band.

"Alright. Should we start?" Dr. Pence was slowly arranging his tray of tools.

"Can we wait for a few more? Logan's coming." Rory asked apprehensively. She hoped Logan wouldn't notice the camera until after they are well under the procedure. Logan wouldn't throw a hissy in front of a crowd. Or leave in the middle. But Sony is timed, and every minute he's late, the odds are against her.

"What kind of work does Logan do?"

"He's in media," Rory answered vaguely. She didn't quite know what kind of work he did for his father. Aside from the glimpse earned at his father's birthday party, Logan always remained quite tight-lipped about his life in New York. Rory guessed you could say Current was in the advertising technology business.

The door's handle juggled.

"Speaking on the devil. Excellent timing." Nurse Ashley greeted Logan with a warm smile. Dr. Pence pulled the sterile gloves over his hands.

Rory's bright expression at his sight quickly changed into a worried one when the Flash of the Sony momentarily blinded him. Still, not halfway through the door, he quickly located the two other devices. His eyes hardened, the silent disappointment crawled into his face as he took a step back. "I'm going to sit this one out."

Rory quickly blocked the nurse's sympathetic look. Mad and silently disappointed was never the right combination with Logan. That was not how this whole morning was supposed to go.

"Okay. Let's get the show on the road." The doctor announced. Rory's stomach twisted with anxiety at the terrible cold front brewing outside the door.

When she stepped out, Logan was uncharacteristically absent.

~w~

* * *

_**Whistler, British Columbia, Canada**_

"Ben was right. It is the size of Montana." Finn inspected the bruise on Logan's neck with interest.

"Finn, you don't even know where Montana is," Logan commented dryly, accepting the can of beer. Inside, Colin and Ben were once again debating the first amendment. Nothing good ever comes out from getting a lawyer and a previous journalist in one room.

Logan wasn't in the mood.

"Somewhere in the not important states. Bet it's cold. Man, I hate the cold. You know I haven't been up this late unless it's for feeding purposes? It's refreshing." The Australian cracked opened his can. Taking a large gulp. "You know, we didn't mean to crash your baby-making routine."

"Yet, you live in Connecticut out of all places under the sun. Don't worry about it." Logan wasn't surprised. Between twiddle dee and twiddle dum, Finn was the most likely party to apologize.

"I go where my heart leads me. Is everything okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Logan answered tightly. Rory texted to inform him treatment passed with flying colors and details of future appointments. Until now, he hasn't responded. He was just too pissed. He wanted to break her camera into two, paint it blue and throw it into the ocean.

"You mean you don't want to talk about it to me. But you'll tell Ben."

"I don't talk to Ben about Rory. He double plays me." Logan replied. Deep down, Logan knew that eventually he would.

"He's team Logan all the way, despite conniving with the enemy." Finn mused. Maybe he was alluding to himself too, and not just Ben. Logan couldn't help but admit he's on point; Ben did help defuse quite a lot of landmines over the past months. "Gilmore girls can be pretty self-absorbed. Trust me; I do business with the prototype. Listen, I need to ask you a favor."

"Whatever it is, I'm not talking to Chelsea."

"I know better than to ask that."

"And I can cut her some slack, but your wife and I are never going to be fast friends."

"It seems like you are both on the same page then. Works for me. Does Rory ever talk about Lorelai?" Finn asked out of the blue.

The last thing Logan wanted was to talk about Rory.

"Sometimes. Why?" Logan looked thoughtful. They don't talk about their families much. Most of their conversations revolve around baby-making logistics and random neutral topics. Lately, they spend most of their time together having sex or fighting about the camera inappropriate presence. Rory only talks of her mother when she's either high or upset. "I don't think they're in the best terms."

"Emily Gilmore paid an explosive visit to the Pyramid this week. It turns out Lorelai canceled the wedding."

"Wouldn't be the first time Lorelai bails out of a wedding." Logan regretted he contributed the detail at the curious look Finn sent him. Apparently, the Australian didn't expect him to know that. Logan shrugged, "Rory mentioned it."

Logan deducted a few months ago, Rory's cold feet habit was a trait inherited from her mother. He also suspected the height of fake snow on his apartment floor matched the size of her disappointment over a canceled Christmas.

"Lorelai says she won't get married until she and Rory are back speaking again."

"As far as I know, the ball is in Lorelai's court," Logan stated, busying himself with the beer. He hoped this is where this conversation ends. He didn't know what exactly went down between Rory and her mother, yet he didn't want to get involved more than he already was.

He learned from his past mistakes.

"Richard Gilmore paid me a visit. For some reason, he thinks you'd be the one get through and put an end to this ongoing rift." Finn cleared his throat; Logan looked alarmed, "Because Rory loves grapefruits."

Logan twisted his mouth in dismay. Richard Gilmore put too much faith in grapefruits. The last thing he wanted to play a referee between mother and daughter. "It won't make much difference."

"Why not?"

Rory had sidestepped the fact he, and the baby they were trying for, was the center-piece in their disagreement. But he wasn't blind. Or deaf. "Take a wild guess why they're not speaking."

"My guess is that you're a grapefruit?"

**~w~  
**

* * *

**April 2014**

_**Seattle**_

"Rory?" Logan tentatively knocked on the close door of the toilet stall. Her boots peeked from the gap between the door and the floor. "Are you okay there? Let me in."

Logan winced when another retching round was triggered by the sound of his voice. He tried the door to find it locked.

Man, the girl is quick. The minute they stepped foot in the clinic, Rory has shoved the camera in his hands, making a mad dash towards the clinic's washroom hand over her mouth.

"Go away, Logan." He didn't expect a different response. Her voice sounded so miserable.

"Okay. I'll just wait out here." He stepped back to lean against the row of marble sinks with the camera hanged over his shoulder. Another woman entered, Logan silently points at the occupied stall. The sound is unmistakable. They exchange awkward smiles.

The toilet flushed. The door opened to reveal a pale looking Rory. A flash from her camera blasted at her. Logan smirked.

"It's the ladies." Rory frowned at him washing her mouth and hands. She should have expected him not to let her out of his sight. He was keeping tabs on her.

"I asked permission. Here. The front desk lady said it usually helps." He offers her a sour candy. "Are you sure you're not a frog? You still look a little green."

Rory shoots him her best death glare in the mirror, running water over her mouth. She pops the candy into her mouth next. "Not funny."

"Kinda funny." His arm sneaked over her waist, pulling her against him. To her surprise, she went willingly. Rory didn't realize how much she needed this closeness. His other hand felt her forehead for fever. "You're a little warm. Should we skip it today?"

Rory moved her head away, "I'm warm because I'm ovulating. I'm not sick; It's just nerves."

"We're still on with me in the room, right?" Logan inquired for the 100th time. Rory nodded. She felt guilty; the question was justified. He didn't trust her, granted.

"No cameras?"

"No cameras." She repeated. After his dramatic exit when he discovered the camera set up she prepared at the exam room, Rory didn't dare. She didn't tatter her feet on nearly every random hiking trail around Seattle just to fuck it up again.

If they ever speak again, she would never tell her mother that she spend all her March weekends in a sleeping bag in a tent. She would never tell Lorelai the unspeakable things she did for this man. The sexy things she let him do to her under the never ending March pouring showers.

She would never tell Lorelai. But she wanted to.

Now, nearly a month later, they were good—sort of. Logan mellowed over the camera's presence, somewhat. But she was not allowed to shoot his face.

Logan returned a hesitated smile and reassuringly rubbed her arm. "Come on, Kermit. Let's go make a baby."

Rory played with the strap of the camera hanging over his neck. It was strange how natural the tool that was an extension of her body looked draped over on him. "You know that we're not making the baby today. That's the next appointment."

"I have a good feeling about this cycle. I tell you."

**Xx**

"What happens now?" Logan has questions about everything. The equipment, statistics, pain levels, side effects, but most of all, he was eager to hear the play by play.

"I'm inspecting the uterus. I can see the egg in the tube. Everything looks intact." Dr. Pence was indulging Logan by narrating his actions. It wasn't out of the ordinary, but usually, Rory blocked it out. And usually, Logan was outside. "I use a small camera in there for better guidance, I can rotate the screen, and you can watch." Dr. Pence offered, "We do it all the time. All good on your end, Rory?"

"Can we skip the director's commentary, please?"

"Cool. It's just like the discovery channel." Logan's interest and excitement piqued.

"You can step over here. To look at the screen if you wish."

"Awesome." Logan rose to his feet quickly with childish glee. Rory grabbed his arm firmly. "Why not? Aren't you curious?"

"NO." Rory gave him a pointed look. The thought of Logan watching the medical procedure was even more disturbing than imagining a stuffed turkey. "Your head is not going anywhere south than my face."

"It's not like I'm a total tourist." Logan dejectedly sat back in the chair. He leaned his face closer to Rory's, "Remember you said that when…" Logan mumbled under his breath.

Rory blushed furiously. "Or, you can wait outside."

"You're not kicking me out. I'm staying." His phone vibrated his pocket. Logan's expression was full of conflict as he rejected it. He was waiting for this call.

"Honestly, Logan. It doesn't get any more exciting than this. You can go outside and take it. You said you were waiting for an important call."

"If you'd let me watch, then…" His argumentative nature reared its head back up, "What happens now?"

"I'm ready for suction now. Won't be long."

"We're in the middle. It's bad luck. I'll call back. He knows it's happening today."

"Who? Your dad?"

"Aaron Rosen," The name that fell off his lips caught her off guard. Logan, as Logan would, provided no further details.

Rory kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, her lips inaudibly counting down from ten. A spider webs a web in the far corner. From the corner of her eye, she watches Logan's eyes following the doctor's movements intently. Next time she'd let him watch. "Logan, who's your favorite Beatle?"

"George Harrison." Although it was a random question, he answered without a beat.

"Why?" She questioned.

"He's the coolest."

"The coolest?" Logan usually opts for better, more profound arguments.

"Anyone who can spare six million dollars to fund the 'Life of Brian' just because he wanted to see the film earned the title. Don't you think?"

"That's something my mother would say." It sounds wishful without her meaning it. It never ceases to amaze her how many out of the blue random things her two L's have in common. She missed her. She especially missed her when Logan did something her mother would do.

A fleeting hint of something passes Logan's face. If she didn't know better, she'd say he got a little emotional for a split second. His fingers gently, fleetingly brushed her bangs.

"Alright, all done." Dr. Pence announced the end of the procedure, "This goes to the lab. All looks well. Rory, best stay lying down a bit to avoid getting dizzy. No better time for a phone call than now."

"Nothing else happening?" Logan directed the question at the doctor.

"No. The next step is to fertilize the egg, and then in a few days, you come back, and we retrieve it. I would recommend refraining from intercourse for the next few days. You might feel a little sore." The man in the white coat said while removing the blue gloves off his hands. "Anything out of the usual side effects, please call in."

"What side effects?" Logan hurried to ask. His need to stay on top of things sometimes drove her crazy.

"I've got it covered; go take your call. They need your sample anyways." Rory tries to sound encouraging, but the look Logan gives her tells her she failed to reassure him he's not being pushed out.

Doctor Pence leaves the room, and so does Logan.

"Your man is charming. I'm glad he finally mustered the courage to step into the room. We always see him sit so nervous outside playing with his wedding ring." Nurse Ashley's cheerful manner took over once Logan closed the door behind him. "I see you're not wearing yours. It's completely normal; some women get their fingers swollen because of the medication. Don't worry; it goes away. It must have been a pretty ring."

Rory politely smiled, though it felt like she'd been slapped hard across her face. It wasn't Logan's hesitation that kept him out of the room. It was hers. And her fingers weren't swollen - she didn't have a ring. She was never going to get any. Not from Logan.

"You two are going to have gorgeous babies. His blonde hair, your blues eyes. You're such a handsome couple."

"Um.. thank you."

**~W~**

* * *

"Did you bath in aftershave? I know that smell." Shiri literally sniffed her, "Is that why you blow us off for lunch? You had to scratch an itch?"

"I had a doctor's appointment." Rory flinched away from the office manager. She took a large bite off her donuts. Treatments always made her crave ultra sugary food. Today she bought two. The jelly-filled one served as comfort food after she hurriedly left the clinic. She needed that after running into cheery Ashley again. "Is Logan back yet?"

"Yes. But I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Shiri warned, "I don't know what got his panties in a twist, but he's tearing up his office. I don't know what he's looking for, but he's frantic. He came back from lunch like thunder and told Ben he needs to go to New York as soon as possible."

"New York?" The donuts caught in Rory's throat. Kate looked at Rory very oddly.

"Ben is keeping his lips zipped. Natalie told me to cancel all his appointments until he's back from London." Shiri checked her nails, discreetly looking at the brunette.

"I'm going to get some water." Rory stuttered, throwing the remains of the donuts in the bin.

"It's Logan's aftershave. I can swear that it is." Shiri announced once Rory was well away from the door.

"You don't know that," Kate said timidly.

"Oh please, you think that's a coincidence they both disappeared at lunch?" Nicole rolled her eyes at the Graphic designer skeptically, "And now he's going to New York on a moment's notice, and she comes back looking all munching on donuts like it's the end of the world. If this doesn't spell, lunch-tryst turned into lovers' tiff. I don't know what does."

Shiri nodded her agreement. "We know. You don't see how they are when we hang outside work. The last time he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he's eye-fucking her."

**Xx**

For a moment, Rory watched him from the door. Shiri wasn't kidding. Logan was frantic. He kept tapping his clothes, feeling up his pockets, moving papers and items around his desk, looking under his keyboard. His hair ruffled from the multiple times he must have run his hand through it. His sleeves were not carefully rolled up. The oddest addition to the office setting is a small carry on.

He was going.

"Shiri, any change you have seen my…" He looked surprised to see Rory carefully closed the door behinds her. "Hi, I'm in a bit of a rush here. Can we talk later?"

"I believe this belongs to you." Rory holds out an item between her thumb and index finger. She noticed for the first time the thin digit on the inside. June 21. The pin code on his phone. Rory felt tears bubbling up.

Logan's eyes bore on the shiny, round object she held. His wedding band. He looked half-relived, half-mad. "Where did you get that?"

"You left this at the clinic. Ashley, the nurse who thinks you are my cute husband, gave this back to me." She offers in a clipped voice. Her blue eyes brim with unwanted tears. The oily taste of the donuts lingers in her mouth. It doesn't taste sweet and sugary anymore; it tastes sourly acid.

"Thanks." Logan awkwardly takes the ring from her and slips into the change pocket in his wallet. The wallet soon disappears out of sight. Logan looks reluctant but eventually says, "I can explain."

"No need. I should get back to work." She says coolly.

"Oh no, you don't." His hand moves faster to guide her into a seat on the yellow couch.

"So now it's okay…"

"No, it's not okay. And I really don't have the time; I need to get to New York. But we're not going to make a big deal out of this, so we're going hash it out now." He is glad his office walls are no longer glass. This is the worst timing for this conversation to happen. He crunched down before her, "Are you upset-upset or just hormonal?"

"Don't get cute." Rory buries her face in her hands.

"Rory, you are over-reacting."

"Why are you even wearing it?" She asks in a small voice. Logan can hear the hint of tears.

"I'm not wearing it. I always have it in my wallet. I play with it when I'm worried. It helps me think. Sometimes." He brushes her bangs gently, "It's just a ring, Rory."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. If he plays with it when nervous, if he is frantically looking for it when it goes missing, then it certainly not just a ring. "If it's just a ring, then put it in the safe."

"That's not for you to decide." He says firmly. She knows by now that tone signals the end of discussion.

"Then it's not just a ring." She can't give him the last word this time. Rory pushes her hands on the yellow fabric to make her exit. His hand on her shoulder keeps her planted on the seat.

"It is just a ring." Logan insists. "I had a life before you. It doesn't mean you get to be a part of them. You had a life too. I'd rather pretend they never existed, but I don't have the luxury since you decided you've broadcasting it for all to see."

Their eyes conduct a staring contest. Each is trying to force their point of view. He can't be serious. Is he picking up a fight about the comics now?

"Fuck you, Logan."

"What's really wrong? Are you feeling well?" He presses his palm to her forehead, worriedly, "You don't have a fever. No bleeding, right?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Any other side effects? Are you tried? Nausea? Heartburns?" He asks cautiously, braving her glare. "Cramps?"

"No. And the reason I don't wear a ring is not that my fingers are too swollen from all the hormones pumped into me." Rory says, argumentatively teary, "Stop reading that book, you're freaking me out. You're not supposed to know this much."

Logan looks at her suspiciously. Something doesn't add up with this rant. Something happened; he just doesn't know what. "Just checking. You will tell me if something's not right, right?"

"I thought you don't go to New York anymore." Ah, news travels fast in the office. Gossip got to her first.

"For work, I don't. This is something else." He offers no further explanation of what does send him to New York on such short notice. For more than a few days, if to judge by Shiri canceling his schedule.

"You're going to miss the next appointment." Rory clarifies. In less than a week, Logan is going to be in London for roughly two weeks. They worked the fertility appointments around it.

"I know. But I'll come to the next one."

She can't believe he's so cool about it, not after he fought her tooth and nail to be there. The last time he missed treatment because New York non-work crisis was in September. Rory starts to pale. Logan was waiting for Aaron Rosen to call.

"Logan," Shiri threw the door open. "Natalie says your flight leaves in three hours, and Mali Rosen is on the phone."

Shit. Not now. The last thing he needs.

The office's manager double-take on the scene unfolding before her is obvious. A nearly teary Rory sitting on the yellow couch, Logan crunched down in front of her. His one hand on her knee, his other loosely in her hair, their face close.

Logan watches Rory connects the dots in her head. He closes his eyes and takes a stilling breath. There's no way he can spin this. His next move is not going to go down well on all fronts.

"Put her through."

"Seriously?" The office manager is floored at his response, her eyes jumping between them. "No message?"

"Yes." He answers harshly. His eyes still on the brunette; she completely clamped up at the mention of a second Rosen today. "Rory, I have to take this call."

"Just forget it." Rory wipes her face with the back of her hand. Her black mascara smug. She stands up, smooths her dress, pushes past the office manager, and leave.

"What is going on?" The curls on the office manager's head looked bursting with curiosity.

"Put her through." Logan decisively repeated. His hands sink in his blonde locks, thoughts jumbled. "And close the door."

**~W~**

* * *

_**London**_

"One positive. One Negative."

"Do you want to take another one?" Logan's fingers played with the round golden band. "The hormone levels could be low. Maybe the test might not be sensitive enough. You took it first thing in the morning, right?"

"I'm not a newbie. I know how to pee on a stick, Logan. How can the hormone levels be low? My hormones are all over the place." Rory ranted over the phone. She was annoyed with him.

Logan cringed inaudibly. Not only were her hormones all over the place, so were her emotions. He hasn't seen her since he left for New York. Their communication dwindled to nearly standard texts and phone calls, where they would just mostly stay on the line saying nothing.

This is the first conversation she actually said more than a word at the time. But it wasn't a conversation. It was an epic meltdown, and it wasn't even 9 o'clock in Seattle.

"It's still early. It might not mean anything. It could be a false positive or a false negative. When is the blood test at the clinic scheduled?"

"After Easter."

All they could do now is wait. Or take another test.

Logan's eyes looked out of the window, searching the familiar Shard pike in the London skyline. The boarding room he has taken over for the duration of his business trip had the same angles as his old office. The shining spade of glass glinted in the uncharacteristically sunny April afternoon. "Okay. Let's just... let's take another test in a few days?"

"I'm not doing anything until you're here."

Logan held in a sigh. When Aaron's Rosen crashed during surgery earlier this month, Logan extended his New York stay. It was touch and go for a few days. It made no sense to go back; he missed the egg retrieval anyways. So he left for London earlier than initially planned. Much to Mitchum's delight.

Rory slammed the phone in his face when he confirmed Chelsea was there with him.

"Why not?" The blonde man fists the ring tightly in his hand. Why did she have to be so damned difficult?

"You're in London. What do I do if it turns positive…" Logan felt the hair at the back of his neck stand at her question. Another positive would be a good thing. Logan hopes for another positive. The gold ring spin on the dark wooden top of the conference room. The delicate engraving of his wedding date shone in the light.

"You call me." He simply answers. Though he admits it feels less satisfactory, if it turns positive, he wants to be there.

Silence. He can feel the vibration of her nerves through the phone. Logan Huntzberger absentmindedly slipped the ring back on his wedding finger. His legs pushing out of the chair, stepping closer to the floor to ceiling glass displaying the London's south bank.

"Rory, come see me."

"What?"

"Come see me," Logan repeats and leans his forehand against the glass.

"In London?"

"Yes, in London. It's a long weekend; this will just drive you crazy." The uncertainty, the Fifty-fifty chance, was going to drive him crazy too. "Okay?"

Bringing Rory to London, he was out of his mind.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the door to the conference room opened, revealing Bobbi armed with two cups of coffee balanced on top of her tablet.

"Okay."

Logan let out a breath of relief he didn't know he was holding. "Natalie will be in touch with your flight details. I…" Bobbi set his designated coffee in front of the seat he previously occupied and made herself comfortable in one of the conference room chairs. "I have to go, my four o'clock starts. I will call you back."

He quickly kills the call after a faint confirmation from Rory.

"I went on the safe side and got you de-caff too. I don't know what kind of pills you are on these days." Logan could hear the playful tone in her voice, "It's been a while since I was your 'four o'clock.' Never thought that phrase would be used again."

Logan distractedly nodded his thanks, quickly typing Natalie the required details. "I just need to fire a message."

"Who's coming to town?"

Logan quickly looked up at the blonde marketing specialist. Her face looked fuller. Her hand absentmindedly stroked her visible bump. The best form of deflection is merely asking something else. "Life changed a lot since I last saw you?"

He pulled back the seat leaning back as he sat down. His eyes glued to the baby bump.

"Oh, you know. Last you saw me was back at my wedding. A lot happens in two years." Bobbi waved her hands dismissively, "One day I just went to sleep and woke up like this. Wanna feel? She's active now." The marketing specialist placed his hand on top of her baby-bump, never waiting for his response.

"Very active. You're excited?" Logan smiled at his blonde associate, assessing the activity under his hand. He couldn't help but wonder if that's in store for him shortly.

"I'm terrified. What if she comes out thinking Pudding is a proper dessert?" Bobbi joked, making Logan laugh. Her eyes lingered on his left hand. "Is it who I think it is? You're wearing your ring."

"No." He pulled his hands back, sliding off the ring into his wallet. "So… where does one happen to buy a pregnancy test in town these days?"

Bobbi raised a surprised eyebrow his way, "Boy, life sure changed a lot since I last saw you."

**~w~**

* * *

"Are you tired? Jet lag usually kicks in around this time on this side of the ocean." Logan asked, worried. His hand easily slipped into hers once he made their excuses and left the pub. She's been quiet ever since he introduced her.

"I'm good."

"This side of town is cool at this time of night. I thought we could walk around a little. But If you're tired, I could always have the car come pick us up at the corner. Or we can take the tube. Or a cab."

"Look at you, saying 'Cab' and 'Tube' like a local." Rory looked at their joined hands. One of the rare public display of affection he offers sporadically. He is much more generous with them outside of Seattle. They have been so awkward with each other lately. "I'm fine."

"Hey, I know. I could carry you." He walked backward, teasing while pulling her hand along.

"Carry me?"

"Yeah, piggyback, fireman's carry, in both arms - your choice." He offers boyishly.

"No." Rory chuckles a little at his lame attempt to cheer her up; she let her hand slip out of his grasp, "I'm really fine."

"Wow, okay. So, I guess something's really wrong." He stopped walking.

"Just because I don't want to be fireman carried doesn't mean that something is wrong."

"But, something is wrong." He observed by the way her shoulders slouched.

"No, it's just…"

"Just?" Logan pressed on.

"This isn't exactly what I expected. You said: come meet me. You put me on a plane. I thought it was gonna be just us." Rory didn't expect New York; she expected Vancouver Island. "And then you say you have a thing."

Rory didn't expect him to in Heathrow when she landed. She didn't foresee how she'd never want to step out of his arms when she collided into him with a bone-crushing hug. She recalls absolutely no time frame of how long they stood there at arrivals in a tight embrace.

"I did. I also said I could get out of it if you wanted. You said it was fine." He reminds her, "I'm sorry that you didn't have a good time tonight. Mike and Will can get intense when talking about soccer. But the night's young, we can do something else. This is London - the options are limitless."

Rory pulled her red coat tightly consciously. It was okay; deep down, she had wanted to see what his London life used to look like, who were the people he hangs out with. She was curious.

Her curiosity went out of the window very fast after introductions.

"Well, no, it's not that. I mean, I get it. The guys are great. Okay. But, technically, Bobbi, well, she's not exactly a guy." He doesn't miss the way she mutters under her breath; "And she got legs."

"Yeah, you got me there." He laughs a little amused, "Is that a problem?"

"I mean, would that have been so unbelievably difficult to fit into a conversation? I don't know about you, but most of the Bobby's I know are guys - Bobby Kennedy, Bobby Brady, Bobby Knight, Bobby Brown."

"Bobby Womack is one cool dude too…"

"You're smiling at me. Why are you smiling at me?"

"Because you are very cute when you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous?" She just didn't want to share.

"Rory."

What was it about Bobbi that rubbed the women in his life the wrong way? Chelsea had the same reaction whenever Bobbi's name was mentioned. Ben used to bring her up just to rile Chelsea up intentionally.

"I'm not! And how condescending was she? 'I wish I was good at something artistic.'" Rory imitated her posh accent. And did you hear what she called us? 'Adorable.' She called us an adorable couple. We are not a couple."

"Wait, she said that out loud?" He tries to keep his face straight.

"Yes, adorable."

"Wow, you want me to go back there and kick her ass?"

"You're not taking me seriously."

As for Rory, he can't decide if the idea of Bobbi in general or that Bobbi assumed they are a couple that bugs her. Bobbi unknowingly stepped on Rory's sore spot. Rory cared about clear definitions. Logan cared about making the most of the moment.

"Because you're not serious. I just didn't want you uncomfortable. Bobbi is my colleague; she's great at what she does. She's smart. She's talented. And, yes, she has great legs. Will has great legs, too. Maybe before you rush judgment, you should check his out."

"You didn't think it was worth mentioning that she's great in bed too?" Rory clicked her tongue, "You made me spend the whole evening with a pregnant woman you consistently slept with for years!"

"No. I took you out to a night with my friends, people who were a big part of my life here. Bobbi was a part of my life. A very dark part of my life. I can't erase that; I don't want to. I don't expect you to do that either." He pauses momentarily, "And, yes. She was great in bed. Years ago. And she's happily married now. She's a friend. I was at her wedding. I can show you pictures."

"Great, so now I'm not just an idiot, I'm an anti-feminist idiot, an anti-feminist who's standing here in the street arguing about things I don't really want to be arguing about."

"You don't?" he's skeptical.

"No. Do you think I like feeling this way? I mean... I'm in London for god sakes! This is meant to be a nice distraction from…" she can't say it. Which just makes the tears prick in her eyes, "How can I be the only one without a smile on my face, sulky, and iffy. And she just sits there, looking all radiantly pregnant…"

Realization suddenly clicks on his face; it wasn't the adorable couple comment. It wasn't the fact that he left out Bobbi was a former bedmate. Bobbi was pregnant.

Visibly, no question about it pregnant.

"Iffy?" She's cute. And upset.

"Something is wrong with the sum of us for weeks! And you are just able to sit there, laughing out loud at the thought of being alive. Like nothing looming over your shoulder."

"Because I can't." Logan says simply, "I can't get stuck on it, Rory. I can't dwell on why we're fighting or why things are not going smoothly and who's at fault here. I just can't keep thinking about what I should have said, or if I could do it differently. Especially not here. Pausing here makes me spiral. I can't be down here; when I'm down, I have the habit of getting really high."

"Marijuana high?"

"Stronger stuff." Logan scratched the back of his head like he didn't want to admit it. "Look, I can't stop and wallow in this for no reason. We don't know yet. The way I see it, we have two options. Either we take a test, and shut the rest of the world while processing whatever it says. Or, we forget all about it this weekend and take a blood test when we get back to America."

"But what if…" What if it's another disappointment?

"It's something that we can't control. We'll have to buckle up, dust it off, smile through it, and double down on another cycle." His hands disappeared into his pocket. Logan stands, looking her straight in the eye. "So what it's gonna be?"

"Let's wait for the blood test."

It wasn't the answer he expected to hear.

"Okay." Logan rocked on his heels to shake the disappointment off, "So just to clarify, in the future, you would prefer I work only with girls who have no legs? Because I think that means I have to fire you."

"You think you're so funny." She hits his chest, his hands grab her arms, pulling her closer. Logan always smelt good, "I think I'm ready to be carried now. How far is Big Ben?"

"Pretty far. I'm not carrying you there."

**Xx**

The little pubs in the small alleys in Convent Garden district. Midnight Fish and Chips. People-watching in Piccadilly square. Rory doesn't drink, but she's drunk of his closeness.

There's a thoughtful look in his eye she never saw before.

It's still there when the jet leg wakes her up at 4 a.m. to a wide-awake Logan and his wandering hands. The pecking of lips turned more sensational. Hands got more daring, and breaths turned quicken and shallow. Soon, a silent agreement cemented between them.

"We can't. Doctor's orders." She whispers. They both know the risks that lie in bluntly disobeyed doctor's orders, yet Logan's eyes are full of something she can't pin-point.

"I'll be gentle." He kisses her shoulder, his hands sliding down the pajama shorts she has on. Her hands matching his actions. Rory shudders in anticipation, gentle means he takes his time showering her boy with attention until she feels completely boneless.

Rory knows, in the back of her mind, she has Chelsea to thank for teaching him.

"I missed you." She mumbles against his hot mouth. She didn't intend to admit it. Vocalizing straight forwards feeling is not something they do.

His hands cups her backsides, her legs instinctively warp around him. "Easy tiger. I'm glad you're here."

Rory thanks Chelsea for breaking his heart. She silently thank all the previous ladies in his life, even Bobbi, because - for the first time - in London, Logan Huntzberger made love to her.

**~w~**

* * *

Logan moves through London's streets like he has the city's map engraved at the back of his head. Rory's to-do list is stuffed in his back pocket after he mercilessly made fun of it.

"Scratch that plan. The sun is out. Saturday is a Notting Hill day."

"But I wanted to see all the film locations! I have a list!" She protests. She should have known he had it all planned out before she even deplaned. "Give it back; I need to mark it on the map."

"Notting Hill has film locations." He deflects easily.

She managed to steal it back once they are riding the 'tube.' she takes advantage of the crowded cabin that makes him stand closer to her than he usually would in public. Or maybe it's just London.

"Are you feeling me up, Gilmore?"

"Just taking what's rightfully mine, Darling." She says in a horrible British accent and waves the list in his face. His smirk makes her conscious of how that sounded.

Otherwise, they don't touch beside the occasional brush of hands.

Notting Hill is a kaleidoscope of row and rows of houses with its colorful doors, small indie shops, second-hand stores, and secret gardens. They wander around the Portobello market. Rory is set to taste every single dish in the international food market. Logan laughs at her American taste-pallet when the sour taste of Ethiopian flat-bread on hits her tongue and her face twitch.

She takes so many pictures she has to use her extra memory card. Logan shies away from her lens, but she manages to catch a few.

"Can we look for the blue door?"

Logan nods. "But don't count on Hugh Grant stepping out in his underpants."

"You'll do as a stand-in." She eyed him suggestively. The small roll of the eye leaves no doubt he's not at all sold on the suggestion. "I'd still fire some mean flashes at the door. Maybe Spike will come out."

They halfway reenacted the final scene of Notting Hill on that iconic bench. Rory's head rests in his lap, legs bent over the edge, reading a pocket-size book she found in a second-hand bookstore. Logan programs her list of movie locations into Google Maps.

Both are painfully aware of the missing bump from the scene. Equally aware of the uncertainly that hangs and the three unopened pregnancy tests that waits in the bathroom to solve it. Three cancel the fifty-fifty chance. Three different brands provide more certainty— Logan was thinking practical when he bought them.

**~w~**

* * *

It's Sunday. From the moment they woke wrapped around each other, they are constantly touching.

"Come on." Logan pushed the black side-gate at the Royal Observatory in Greenwich, completely ignoring her protest that they are not supposed to do this, "It's not locked, stop stalling. You're gonna love this!"

They take the short walk into the trail surrounding the wall of the Observatory before he stops in front of a stone plaque on the wall. A black line runs right in the middle, partitioning between East and West.

The Greenwich Meridian line. The place where time zones begin.

"Get your camera ready. Wait here." He drops her hand and disappears only to come back a moment later with a Japanese tourist in tow.

"Logan, what are…"

"Give him your camera." He orders. Rory clenches her tool tighter to her. Hell no.

"No one touches my camera."

"Well, make an exception before he leaves." She grips her camera closer than humanly possible, "Just trust me."

She doesn't know why she gives in. It's him. He has this effect on her. Logan Huntzberger can tell her that if she'd touch fire, she won't burn. And she'd believe him. Her precious camera sits in the hands of a stranger, while Logan wastes no time to maneuver her close to the wall. He kicks her feet, making sure they stay parted by the line.

"You're East. I'm West." He states the obvious.

"Like in the wizard of Oz?"

"Stand still. Shut up." He says before he cups her face and kisses her.

Her hands automatically grab the back of his head, investing more. He never kisses her in public, in broad daylight. Rory hears the dimmed, familiar clicks of her camera and her heart pounds. Logan Huntzberger rarely willingly thrust himself in front of a camera for documented proof. It completely throws her.

She thinks she gets it. The ultimate wrinkle in time. Two actual different times zones that are actually the same place. The place where time starts. The place where time and space collide. No more wrinkles in time, no more boundaries.

Rory's heart sings for this man.

**~w~**

* * *

Monday is her last morning in London. Rory sits on the cold tiles of the bathroom, worrying her fingernails in her mouth. Logan was soundly sleeping; she knows by now how rare phenomenon that is.

She didn't want to wake him. Yet.

"It's blue." The words get tangled up on her tongue, the three sticks stare back at her, "They're all blue."

"Well, what do you know, blue is my favorite color." Her blue eyes quickly flew to the man leaning against the bathroom door. She didn't hear him get up. Logan's hair sticks out in all directions from the pillows. Wrinkles of sleep pressed on his cheek.

She blinks at him, "I'm so glad you didn't say you need to call your lawyer."

He smiles sheepishly; she can see unrecognized emotions running in his eyes. Logan scratched his bed hair, "My phone's off. I heard the toilet flush."

Rory's bottom lip start to quiver. He literally did shut out the rest of the world to process this. It hits her that his phone never rang once the entire weekend too.

"We need to take a picture." She wipes her runny nose on the back of her hand.

He shakes his head at her, amused, "You don't want a picture of you crying on the bathroom floor, Rory."


	33. Chapter 33

_AN: Enjoy. Please excuse the grammar and spelling. I didn't have much time for edits. __Sorry it took so long, knowing how invested you are in this story warms my heart. __I am feeling better but extremely busy with RL. I apologize, but slower updates are to be expected._

* * *

**June 2014**

_**Seattle**_

"Good! You are back! Good flight?" Shiri jumped to her feet in greeting when Logan cruised through the door on the first day of June. Logan looked at her suspiciously. It was as if she's been waiting on him.

"No. I need coffee, Advil, and a fresh shirt." Logan cited. He hated early morning flights. It made him mess up his sleeping pills routine, which gave him a headache. "Any important messages?"

"Some," Shiri said vaguely. "You want me to relay them in writing or orally?"

"I'll remain oblivious." Logan rubbed his temple, deciding to pursue coffee first. "Just get me coffee."

"The coffee machine broke down. We have Ness Café' and a kettle for now. We're getting some complaints about that too if you are interested in your staff dis-satisfaction." He could guess who the primary grumbler was, and to be honest, facilitating Rory's caffeine intake wasn't his top priority.

"What do you want?" He turned towards the breakroom; the coffee wasn't going to make itself. The office manager didn't waste any time and followed.

"Cranky. So, as you know, tomorrow is June 2nd."

"Is it your birthday or something?"

"Do I get an inappropriate present delivered to the office if it is?"

The reference didn't go a miss. Ever since the Rory incident in his office, she's been trying to bait him into giving details. "No."

"It's the national leave the office early day."

"Talk to Ben." Logan tried to shake her off.

"Ben said you got the power," Shiri stated as the familiar ringtone rang off in his pocket.

_Cher._

Shiri raised her eyebrow at him. It was already common knowledge the ringtone to belonged to his Chelsea. Logan sighed. Figures. As if this day didn't start bad enough.

"Later." He told his office manager, raising the phone to his ear. "I'm not in New York anymore."

To his luck, once Shiri left, the break room was deserted, and the kettle full of water.

"Aren't you all sunshine and rainbows. You used to be nicer when we were married." The familiar voice of his ex-wife and the hint of newly developed Californian accent rang in his ear. She followed with concern, "Did I wake you?"

Logan snorted. He wished he had the chance to go to sleep. He was contemplating whether to crash on Ben's couch until lunch, or cut to the gym and exhaust himself. Or both, not in the same order.

Logan pressed the ON switch. "I'm at work. Is everything okay?"

"Oh, god, sorry - yes. Yes. I just called to say thank you. I don't know what you said to him, but whatever it was, it made a huge difference. Dad is feeling much more energized." Logan tensed like the kettle switch. It was very unlike Chelsea to call just to thank him.

"I'm not going to share." He said firmly. He never meant to spill the beans to Aaron Rosen. It was too early. But when Mali Rosen finally left them alone, and his chess opponent called the coordinates for Logan to play his move, instead of moving his pawn, the man's vulnerability shuttered him. Logan couldn't help but think that at this rate of deterioration, maybe Chelsea was right, and Aaron Rosen was dying so he could get his kid.

The fear he would never get the chance to share his news with the man won.

_"Well, that certainly something worth living for."_ The congressman beamed when Logan revealed his upcoming fatherhood.

"I know. I'm not part of the close confidant's circle anymore. I don't get access to the depth of your soul. Or your secrets." Logan dropped two spoonful's of sugars into his coffee. He could swear she's biting her lip at the end of the sentence. "I'm just… I'm just glad we're good."

They weren't good. They were civil, and Chelsea was pushing it.

"Take care." He drawled and clicked off the call, just as the carrier of his secret walked into the breakroom dressed in thin Demin dress, no nylons, and… he blinked in horror to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.

They weren't.

The fabric hangs on the swell of her breasts, tighter than usual. He failed to trace the hint of the strap, but the outline of her nipples was visible, it left no room for question. His baby partner went into work this morning braless.

"You're back." The brilliance of her smile dazzled him for a moment.

"You're not wearing a bra." Logan swallowed hard; the first weeks of her pregnancy seemed to fill them. It did things to him she couldn't even begin to understand. The uncomfortable stirring in his pants opened his mind to a third lunch break option—two birds at once: release, and the sweet sleep that followed.

"Shit. You can tell?" The empty cup in her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to cover herself elegantly. She lowered her voice considerably, "This is so embarrassing. Overnight my everything is too small. I didn't have time… Going without seemed better than have them spill out. 'Cause it shows.."

"Meet me downstairs in twenty." The way he said it left no mistake for his intention.

Rory blushed as her embarrassment intensified. There was unmistakable desire flashing in his eyes. Logan wanted sex. "I have Alison's content review meeting at 14:00. I need to prepare."

Logan stared at her for a moment and poured his freshly coffee into the sink. Rory watched the steaming beverage going down the drain, appalled, as he brushed past her, walking hastily back towards Shiri's desk like a man on a mission.

"Logan, what the f…" Rory followed his confused.

"Shiri? What time is Alison's content review meeting?" He inquired.

"Umm…. 14:00, why?"

"Move it to 16:00. I want to sit in. Thanks." Logan tapped his fingers on her desk. Behind him, Rory mumbled under her breath 'unbelievable.'

"Moved." A satisfied smirk graced his face at Shiri's confirmation. It was that easy. "What about tomorrow?"

"Ask me tomorrow. I'm taking a long lunch." Logan waved her off, making his way back into the elevator. He didn't care about tomorrow; he just won himself a solid four hours for uninterrupted decompressing. He was going to fuck his baby partner into oblivion, and then he was going to catch up on some sleep.

But first, he's going to buy her a bra because he can't stand the thought of everyone staring at her breasts.

"Anything you need?" Shiri turned nonchalantly to Rory. Rory looked too startled to be an innocent bystander.

"No."

"Rory, tomorrow is the national leave the office early day. I don't care what you need to do to make it happen. But make it happen." Shiri looked at her blue-eyed co-worker knowingly, "Enjoy your long lunch."

**Xx**

"I think I hadn't eaten chicken wings since college." Logan took a swig off his water bottle. A small pile of chicken wings bones accumulated on the paper bag they spread between them on the grass.

Bra shopping is exhausting. After spending over an hour in the mall and previously serval more in the metal cage of a plane, Logan was done with indoor spaces. He needed air, he needed sun, and for once, it wasn't raining. Lunch turned into a takeaway picnic. Rory had to eat.

"You're kidding." Rory looked honestly mortified, "you're such a snobby WASP."

"It's garbage food." Logan didn't seem to be insulted at all. He was too hungry, too tired, too wired, and too horny to start the exhaustive process of negotiating the portion, identity, and form of the vegetables needed to balance out the pile of grease she wanted to eat for lunch.

"These are amazing. The frosting is just so crisp." Rory took another bit off another wing, sucking on the juices of the chicken. "Best chicken wings in Seattle."

"If you say so. Drink your water." Logan laid back, crossing hands behind his head. He did win the choice of beverage. The 'doctor orders' line seemed to work magic on Rory, and Logan wasn't shy to exploit it.

"You're a chicken wings virgin." She teased, picking up her camera.

He opened one eye at her, "I didn't say I never had them."

"I'm pretty sure that if you don't do something for ten years that re-establish your virginity." Rory teased further.

"Says who?" He chuckled, amused. There were very few things Logan Huntzberger could still be considered a virgin at. "If you take my picture, I'll take one of you in the shower."

"My mom." Rory becomes suddenly fascinated with her water and quickly changed the subject. "How was New York?"

"Natalie needs to know whether I'm attending the Lorelai Gilmore Planetarium event this year."

"It is expected. I couldn't get out of it this year." Rory said, wiped her hands off a napkin and started to pack the remains of their lunch to keep her busy.

"I'll tell her I'm your plus one." His easy response caught her off guard. Were they each other's plus one now? Officially?

Ever since London, ever since the three positive tests in the bathroom, Logan seemed to hit switch gears. He was lighter; for the most part, his defenses were down. They hardly spent nights apart when in the same city. Logan made sure there will be chocolate cake in the fridge. She noticed their Greenwich photo pinned on its door.

His hand lingered at the small of her back instead of gently guiding her elbow, even in public.

And he kept looking at her like she's a wonder with that smile on his face.

"You don't have to do that." Rory polished the lens with her thumb.

Despite Emily Gilmore's discontent with Logan's presence in her life, Emily Gilmore didn't have beef with Logan as a concept. The Huntzbergers were dear friends of the family, after all. Respected members of society. Her grandma's exact words. It led Rory to believe her grandmother's problem with Logan was personal, which was alarming.

Rory didn't even want to wonder what her brief visit to the East Coast, after a six-month absence, with Logan on her arm would stir with her mother.

The only one who seemed genuinely happy about Logan was Richard. Her dad was his usual self; he was more concerned with Lorelai postponing the wedding.

"It's what baby partners do," Logan stated.

Do they? Rory hated the ambiguous meaning of Logan's baby partner terminology. What did it even mean?

There was the baby issue too. For now, they were keeping it quiet, still trying to find their footing in this new reality. On the one hand, everything was the same; keeping things quiet was the norm.

Yet everything was different.

Rory didn't feel pregnant. Her sexual libido oddly skyrocketed, and Logan as a very willing participant. London completely rewired his inhibitions. He seemed always to want her these days.

This was not how pregnant was in the movies.

She wasn't sick; she wasn't nauseous. She was tired, but she worked two jobs; she was always tired. If it weren't for extensive tests the doctor determined needed, and her increasing breast size – Rory sometimes forgot she's pregnant.

"What else is new apart from your new bra size?" Logan's hand pulled her down into the grass with him.

"What are you doing?" She managed a little yelp before his lips captured hers eagerly. "So, that's what you're doing."

"What did you think I was doing?" he mumbled before diving into another kiss. Rory pulled away just barely. She eyed the surrounding lawn with care. "We're in public, people will see."

"I don't care if people see."

"Yes, you do. A photographer will see you, and he'll take pictures of you and..."

"The only photographer I care in this particular manner is you." His dimples flashed out of his smirk; his hand brushed lightly over her now bra covered breast, finally settling discreetly on her stomach. "When's the doctor's appointment?"

She hoped he wouldn't ask, but what are the chances Logan wouldn't ask? Logan was always on top of these things. He kept reminding her – and she kept pushing back scheduling follow up the doctor appointments.

"You did schedule one, right?"

"I… I didn't… I want to change doctors. I don't like that one." Rory bites her lip nervously. The new doctor they went to after London made her self-conscious, plus, the woman had a bitter attitude and leered at Logan.

"Okay."

"Female or male doctor?" Rory asked. She kept waiting for the scolding that surprisingly didn't come.

"Whichever comes more highly recommended. I don't mind."

"You don't?" What happened to freak control Logan?

"No. Whatever works best for you. I just want to be there to see it. Make sure everything is intact. There could be a heartbeat by now." His excitement bubbled under his skin as his hand rubbed her flat stomach. She wished she'd be as excited as him. "Let's do it this week."

"You're here all week?" Rory reached to stroke his cheek. He didn't shave.

Between Logan flying back and forth between east and west again, and Rory picking up more stills-unit photography opportunities, they barely saw each other for more than two hours aside to work time.

"I'm here all week." He confirmed, smiling against her lips, glancing briefly at his watch, "And you're uninterruptedly mine for the next two hours."

"Yeah?" His smile is catching on her, "What are you gonna do about that?"

**~w~**

* * *

"You can get back in the game if you'd sell it to me." Rory looked at the board game discouraged.

Her refusal to eat broccoli cost her the right to object to the rest of the evening activity. Logan's trick of allowing her the choice of food sedated her into false blissful victory, only hit her with a curveball of a board game that imitated real-life money skills.

"I'm not selling." She glared at him. Rory was starting to wish she had agreed to eat that broccoli. A Monday night playing monopoly is such a waste.

"You do realize you are broke?"

"I'm not broke; I have properties."

"And no liquid funds." He pointed out. He loved it. Winning, Logan loved to win.

"I'm not selling it so you can develop your monstrous casino strip and rip me off."

"I don't need your property to do that. I can just develop the whole area around you and force you to sell." Logan was damn competitive, and Rory really sucked at Monopoly.

"This property is the first one I bought in the game. It has sentimental value. I will never sell." Rory huffed, annoyed at his cockiness.

"Very 'You've Got Mail' of you. But if you do, you'll get enough money to pay your debts, develop your other properties, and build a hotel. Hence, increase the returns when someone lands on your lot." Logan reasoned, "How else were you planning to win?"

"I'm hoping to win the lottery and take the game."

"That's a terrible business strategy." He summed up, shaking the dice for his turn. "You know, you could pawn your property to the bank, buy another property with the loan, and hopefully that will increase your possible returns."

"Logan, just roll the dice."

Logan moved his pawn the number of steps the dice instructed, ending up in her lot. Rory grinned with satisfaction, eagerly gripping his paper-money rent. Logan kept a hold on the notes.

"Who deals with the financial side of your freelancing?" he asked seriously.

"No one. I keep track and file everything at the end of the year for a tax deduction."

"So, you have no idea if your regular income exceeds your expenditure?"

"I have some idea. I have a budget."

"Yeah? What's the estimate?" he questioned.

"None of your business." Rory pulled at the notes harder. She didn't want to talk about money with him.

"I know what your paycheck looks like; I sign it. I didn't want to know what Marie Claire pays you, but Mitchum made sure I'd know. There's no way you can afford the rent of your apartment just based on that. I assume the wedding photography gave you a good steady income, but you're not doing that anymore. The stills unit photography work isn't regular. How much does the stills work pay?"

"It depends. There's more job during the summer." Rory jump at the opportunity for a change of subject, "Did I tell you I might get a chance to do Grey's? They are going to film some outdoor scenes in town. Rumor is they need a lot of personal because they are shooting multiple locations at the same time."

"Grey's?" Logan inquired, honoring her attempt to deflect the conversation.

"Grey's Anatomy. For a plot that takes place in Seattle, they rarely come film here. Everyone is excited. It's network TV. It's good money. I've never done any TV stuff." She mused, "Probably lots of blood shots too."

"Cool. I can ask my accountant to look it over." Logan flipped back to the original discussion.

"I don't need your accountant to look it over. I have an excel file."

"Alright. I can take a look; I know the basics."

"No."

"Honestly, I don't mind."

"Because that's what baby partners do?" Rory retorted bitterly, throwing the dice it a little too forcefully onto the floor. She landed her on GO; "Yes! I get 200$ from the bank."

Logan looked as if he was considering his next words. "I want us to open a joint expenditure account."

"What?" Rory was beyond alarmed.

"For the baby."

"That's not in the contract. Money is separated." Rory stated. "Let's stick to the contract on that. No needed for us to talk about money."

"I don't want to stick to the contract on that. You wouldn't even let me pay for your bra."

"Of course you don't, you want to control everything. Just like you went ahead and sent Natalie to buy me three very expensive lingerie sets." Rory accused angrily. "I don't want your money."

Honestly, Logan couldn't quite understand her irritation with the gift. At first she loved it.

"She did not buy you lingerie. Running errands is part of her job, Rory. She didn't handpick them; she just picked up the order from the store." Logan decided to stick with that version of the truth. Once in the store, Natalie did advise him to trade two sexy pairs with more basic ones, which Rory seemed to prefer. He's never going to confess that now. "I know you don't want my money. It doesn't make you a martyr to repeatedly say it, Rory. It's just plain annoying."

"Your assistant doesn't need to know my bra size, Logan."

"People don't need to know how I asked you to dance in a gas station, that your mother knows that we used three condoms in one night, or what our fights are about either - but they are going to read it in Marie Claire every month. I live with the consequences of your career - you live with Natalie picking up the underwear _I wanted_ to buy you."

God, when Logan got angry, he could sure get flogging.

Rory's eyes turned steely cold, "Because that's what baby partners do?"

"Yes, that exactly what baby partners do!" He said hotly.

"What does that even means?!" She countered back in frustration. "You can't just change the rules whenever you feel like it, Logan. We stick to the contract. Nothing changed."

"Everything has changed." He said as a matter of fact, "I'm not trying to control anything. But, you just proved you have no idea what your actual cash flow is. So yes, I think we should forget the contract for a moment and talk about money. Like adults."

"Fine. Let me summarize. Rory –" she pointed at herself, "doesn't need charity. And I don't need you to rescue me or finance me. And Logan –" Her finger turned towards him, "has more money than he can count. Good for you. Game over."

Rory fisted a nice amount of the house pieces decorating the Monopoly board with the full intention to pack the game. His hand quickly covered her hand, stopping her motion.

"My money will be the baby's money. You are aware of that, right?" He raised an eyebrow at her, "You are aware that the human being growing inside of you is going to be born into wealth. It's not gonna lack anything. And one day, it's going to inherit a shit-load of billions of dollars."

"My mom raised me in a humble, financially conscious home - I never lacked anything." She hissed at him venomously.

Logan pressed his lips together. Deciding it's better to stay mum.

"What?"

"Do you have student loans?"

"What?"

"I'm not the only one here who comes from money. I doubt Richard Gilmore could stand the humiliation of his granddaughter attending his alma-mater based on student loans. In fact, I'm pretty sure Yale admission office wasn't blind to the fact that you are a Gilmore, especially since there's a god-damn building in your name on campus. So don't give me that crap about growing up in a humble, financially conscious home."

Rory narrowed her eyes at him; how dare he bring her grandfather into the argument. "That's my grandparents. I didn't even want that!"

"You don't pay rent either, do you?"

"I pay rent." Rory objected. Every month she transferred her father the random number he named once and ignored the fact that he just ordered it to transform into another trust in her name. It's the game they played for both of them to feel good.

"Yeah? What's your landlord's name?"

"Christopher."

"Christopher, what? Christopher Robin?"

"Christopher Hayden." She pulled her hand out of his grip, rising to her feet. "Game over."

"Rory." He called after her back, watching her beeline angrily towards the chocolate cake in the fridge. Logan wasn't sure if it was for comfort or just the pregnancy. She never answered.

Logan decided a break might do good. He silently finished collecting all of the game's essentials back in the box, then made his way into the kitchen.

"You proved your point. Leave me alone." Rory forked a massive piece of chocolate cake into her mouth.

"I'm not trying to prove any point." He sighed, "I'm talking about one shared account, not a combination of assets, Rory. We'll both transfer an agreeable amount of money each month, and all baby expenses will deduct from there. I don't want to slip you a twenty if the kid needs shoes. It's ridiculous. Everything else will still be separated. It's just another credit card in your wallet."

"With your name on it. You won't need to slip my a twenty; I can pay my own way. You don't need to supervise me." She says sourly. The look on her face indicated he put his foot down on something big.

"I won't be supervising you. We'll both have access. I don't get why you get this defensive when we talk money. We need to talk about money…"

"I get defensive? I get defensive!? Mr. I preserve my right for silence whenever I see fit. Do you want to talk? Fine." Rory stabbed the cake with her fork, the cream breaking. She dropped it, wiping her eyes angrily though he can't detect tears. "Fine. Let's talk, let's really talk. Let's talk about Chelsea."

Rory expected him to plead the fifth; she expected him to say a firm 'No.' She never expected him to counter back with a challenge:

"Fine." Logan crossed his arms over his chest "Then, let's talk about your mom."

Rory felt a warm wave through her tissues, the beginning of cold sweat, followed by the gagging contraction of her throat. Her hand quickly flew to cover her mouth.

She made it just in time to empty her stomach in the toilet. Him following closely.

"You are not welcome in my bed tonight," Rory informed him between her tries to settle her breath.

"My bed," Logan corrected, holding her hair. He can't tell if the cause is her usual panic nervousness or pregnancy sickness. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"I'm not sorry." She announced stubbornly.

"Me either. I'll get you some water."

He was too riled up to sleep anyway.

**~w~**

* * *

"We get to the end of the date, and he takes out his wallet and asks if I want to pay my way." Shiri recited her last night date with horror. "Um, no, buddy, it's the first date, be a gentleman, and you pay for drinks."

"Did you pay?" Kate asked, stirring the noodles in her Pho soup.

Rory vetoed Sushi, so Vietnamese was a fair settlement. Nicole praised Rory of her choice of vegetarian dish and her inquiry of the freshness of ingredients. Logan would be proud too - but she wasn't speaking to him. For the second day in a row.

She knows he's been watching movies in repeat the night of their fight. She heard every scene. She had finally fallen asleep the second time Rene Zellweger's character broke up with Jerry Maguire.

In the morning, Logan and his gym back were gone. There was a glass of lemon water waiting for her, a pack of crackers and two travel coffee mugs – one with coffee, one with water – waiting for her with a note: 'EAT SOMETHING.'

Logan could be so sweet yet so infuriating bossy at the same time.

"Obviously. How could I not after that?" Shiri loaded the extra vegetables into the bowl. "Kate, you had it so easy with Ryan; you have no idea."

"Our first date was a college party. There was a keg. It's not very romantic, but surely helped avoid the who pays dilemma."

"But it's real. My college boyfriend was a douche-bag, but I wouldn't object to marry him and be over with the whole dating scene." Shiri argued. "You should thank your lucky-stars Ben hired Patel, Nicole. Trust me."

"Logan hired him."

"Don't thank Logan; his ego is inflated enough." Shiri laughed with her water glass in hand. Rory couldn't help but silently agree.

"The equal-feminist act goes out of the window so fast you wouldn't believe." Nicole said, "Last week, Patel told me I spend too much on clothes. Can you believe it? It's my hard-earned cash, I'll spend whatever I want, wherever I want. The fact that he decided to pull out a ring does not mean he gets a say."

"Amen, sister!" Kate cheered lightly.

"Just wait until he offers to have his accountant review your bank statement and your tax returns. Or decides you need to open a shared account because he doesn't want to slip you a twenty in case your kids need shoes." The words oozed uncontrollably bitter out of her mouth; Rory caught her slip when a stunned silence that followed.

Shiri sputtered her water.

"Oh, wow." Nicole stuttered as she blinked in surprise. "Wow… I… I didn't think it was that serious."

"We…" Shiri exchanged a quick look with Nicole and Kate. "We thought you and Logan were just fucking. A lot. I mean, the other day, you returned from that ridiculously long lunch practically glowing. He's that good, huh?"

"Oh please, she's been in and out of his bed for years. It's been serious for a while." Kate said, throwing a concerned look Rory's way. "Kids, huh?"

Rory tried to hide the quiver of her lower lip by taking a sip. The water glass shook in her hand. She felt the first wetness of tears under her eyelashes. It was one thing to confirm she and Logan were an item. Kate did say everyone in the office knew anyway but kept quiet. It's entirely another to air their dirty laundry.

Logan would go ballistic.

Nicole offered a napkin.

"Well, What did you expect? He is a thirty-two years old multimillionaire he needs to protect his money. and he's not getting any younger." Shiri shrugged, "Natalie said the rumor in New York is that his dad is postponing his inheritance until he produces an heir and comes back to New York."

"What?" Rory's voice is un-mistakenly upset now. Nicole hurried to offer more napkins.

"Natalie said it was a rumor." Shiri retracted quickly at the photographer's upset response, "I bet Logan picks up the tab on a date."

"Just stop talking." Kate breathed as Rory's waterworks broke, her tears dropping into her soup.

**~w~**

* * *

"You're quiet today." Ben stood in the door of Current's CEO holding a bottle of whisky by its neck and two glasses. The blonde man was staring at the records hanging on the wall above the yellow couch; a pen is held between his two hands, lost in thoughts.

"Just distracted. It's a little early for you." Logan eyed the bottle as his business partner took a seat across his desk. The door is shutting softly behind him.

"Yes, but not for you." Ben unscrewed the bottle, pour a portion into each glass. "I need to run something by you."

"Shoot." Logan dropped his pen on the desk. It's not like he was getting anything else done anyway.

"I think we should start bringing fresh blood in; we're underperforming our business targets." Ben left his glass untouched. Logan played with his, undecided whether to indulge or pass.

"We can't afford new hiring at this point."

"I know, that's why I was thinking of offering two college internships positions for the summer."

"You think college internships are a sham."

"You know I think it's exploiting, but we need more hands. They'll learn on the go, gain experience, a recommendation letter; maybe if they're good, we can keep them on part-time or full time." Ben answered thoughtfully, "It will keep new ideas coming and reduce costs of new hiring when we need ones. "

"That sounds like something Mitchum would do." Logan looked down at the Amber liquid in his glass reluctantly. He was trying to cut back on the drinking.

"I expect we are one staffer down in about roughly six months. If I'm not mistaken." Ben's voice remained steadily quiet as he finally grabbed his drink, "If all goes well, I'm down a CEO in eighteen months, too."

Logan let a small smile split. Ben was on to him. "How?"

"You've been different ever since London." Ben countered back with his own question. "You happy?

"Me? I'm ecstatic. I'm worried."

"No one is ever ready. That's why you have nine months." Ben offered some reassurance, "And Rory?"

"I don't know. Most of the time, she acts as if it isn't happening. Like nothing changed." Logan rubbed his face; he hated to admit defeat. He just couldn't quite figure it out where it has gone wrong. "She's not really speaking to me at the moment."

Ben looked amused, "A taste of your own medicine?"

"We're fighting about baby stuff. Money."

"I didn't know people who had money argue about money." Ben mused.

Logan gave him a weary look. "I'm not sure it's about money. She's freaking out on me."

"I think Rory was on some wild ride to prove you something when this whole thing started and she never thought it'll get this far." Ben adjusted his glasses. His nerves tell. "Look, ultimately, you and Rory want the same thing. You just go about it in opposite ways. You want to keep the whole world at bay in order to cement this. Rory wants to have a solid claim on the territory to signal the whole world to back off."

"She's my baby partner. You can't get any more solid than that. We've been over this so many times." Logan gave into frustration, taking a sip.

"I don't think Rory is as clear on the concept as you are." Ben said gently, "And Chelsea being back in the picture doesn't help."

"Chelsea is not back in the picture."

"But Rory doesn't know that – does she?" Ben sipped his whiskey to hide the pregnant pause. "Let's stop with this ridiculous segregation. Rory should come to dinner. At ours."

"Ben."

"If you took her to London, she can come to dinner." Logan didn't answer. But he didn't need to; Ben knew he hit the nail. "You'll do the internships interviews, right? You know how I hate this."

**~w~**

* * *

Logan used his key to enter the apartment. The familiar drop of keys in the bowl next to the door, the dull thud as he kicked off his dress shoes, followed by the comforting sound of his socks covered steps.

"I got Indian. Extra samosas." Logan states the obvious.

The smell of food assaulted her senses through the cloud of degenerates fumes. Rory didn't even know she was hungry.

She kept her back on him, standing by the sink, looking at her hands covered with gloves and foam. "I'm only talking to you because you came in bearing food."

"I can live with that. Doesn't the cleaner comes in tomorrow?" Logan asked confused.

"She does. And my dad pays for it too. If you must know." Rory replied sarcastically, scrubbing the stainless steel sink faster, "And he should. He should pay for the apartment as he should have paid for Yale. He should pay for it because he never opted to pay for anything. Anything. He once tried to buy me the newest oxford dictionary, and his credit card was declined. And you know what you he said? He said: d_on't tell your mom about this_."

Rory continued scrubbing forcefully without turning. "So, no, I would never need you to slip me a twenty. I'm not going to be like my father any more than I already am."

Ah. The daddy issues. That's the landmine he stepped on two nights ago.

"I don't want to be like my dad, either." Logan touched her elbow gently, startling her. She didn't hear him come closer.

Rory stopped her scrubbing motions; she brushed loose strands of her off her face with the back of her hand, her face half turned. "Is it true your dad is holding off your inheritance until you produce an heir?"

"What?" Logan looked like she flogged him with a baseball bat. This was not the conversation he expected to have. "Where did you hear that?"

"Lunch."

"Okay," Logan said slowly, turning her fully to face him. "I need something more to work with here. Lunch with whom?"

"Shiri said Natalie said."

"Aha." His ability to quickly recollect himself is admirable.

"Is it?" Rory kept looking at him expectedly, throwing off her gloves into the sink. Like she was gearing up another fight, which she probably was.

"Not entirely, and probably not the way you heard it."

"Is that what's it all about? Is there a time limit for producing the Huntzberger heir? Do you lose your inheritance if you don't produce one in X time? Doesn't matter who is it with?"

"No." He repeated, "No. It's not a Chris O'Donnell movie, there's no time limit. Of course it matters. It has nothing to do with my inheritance. Come sit down." He tried to guide her gently away from the sink.

"I don't want to sit down; I want you to answer the question."

"I did answer the question."

"No, you didn't." Rory insisted.

Logan stepped back, "If it were up to Mitchum, I'd be sitting in the office on the executive floor in New York by now. I was supposed to be officially named successor at his sixty birthday party last year. It's not my dad who's holding off the transition. It's me."

"What?"

"I asked him to postpone it. I asked not to announce it yet."

"I need to sit down." Rory felt slightly lightheaded. She found herself sinking slowly to the floor. "Why?"

"Because we were starting our thing, and I wanted to be in Seattle for this - and he knew it." Logan crunched down opposite of her, "It took some negotiations, but we agreed on my Huntzberger obligations."

"And producing an heir is one of them?"

"No. Huntzberger's obligation is the things I need to do professionally, legally, and the public persona I need to maintain for the sake of the family business. I promised you in New York it wouldn't include you, and I intend to keep that promise. My family is absolved. It remains private."

"I'm not family."

"You're my baby partner." Logan exhaled, holding his frustration, "Rory, all you need to know about the deal is that I'm taking a back seat while I build my family - away from New York. And I get the first year of my kid's life uninterrupted, and my family remains off-limits. Those were my conditions."

"And his?"

Logan paused, "He knows it's either that or I'm out. The old man is not ready to retire yet, anyway."

"And after that?" She kept waiting for the catch. Logan avoided her previous question.

"Once the year is up, we go to New York. Full Huntzberger obligations, no more Seattle, New York is end game." We. He didn't say 'I.' He said we. Who were we? Logan and his kid? Her? Him and her?

"What about Current?" Rory's heart filled with both exhilaration and fear, "What if I don't want to go to New York?"

"I love Seattle. I like how laid back it is here. I love that I can drive out of the city and the outdoors and the ocean stretch forever. And I love the fact that no one cares about who I am here. I can walk down the street, run in the park, I can go I can sit in a restaurant at dinner, and no one will approach me, or try to pitch me… But New York is the end game. I can't run the empire based in Seattle." Logan looks almost sad, his finger hesitatingly brushed her bangs, "We cross that bridge when we get there."

"But the contract says…"

"Contracts can be altered. We cross that bridge when we get there. You're my baby partner – you get a say."

"God, Logan, what does that title even mean?" He keeps using it and Rory still doesn't know what the hell did it mean.

"It means your my Ace of Spades." Logan pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'm going to have to google it, don't I?" Her confusion is mixed with a hint of a sob. Sometimes, his explanations were just another riddle that required more clarification than the original.

He chuckled, "You never played Bridge, did you? It's the highest card in the pack."

"Your Ace, huh?" The waterworks uncontrollably started again.

Logan gives her that rare, shy, vulnerable smile. His thumb smudging her tears. "Why does good things always makes you end up crying on the floor?"

"Because I love you, you idiot."


	34. Chapter 34

_AN: Thank you for your amazing reviews! So... You've earnt yourself a new update in unplanned record time. The next one is expect to be a major word count so it will take time. Reference for this are: Cher - Shoop Shoop Song from the movie Mermaids & David Gray - Please Forgive me. Enjoy._

* * *

**June 2014**

_**Seattle**_

_"Because I love you, you idiot."_

"Wow, I.."

"Don't say anything!" Rory's hands quickly slapped over his mouth, blocking his words. "Please, please don't say anything. I don't even… I didn't mean to spring that on you. You don't have to say anything. Let's just forget I said it…"

Her eyes frantically searched his face in panic. She couldn't read him; she could never read him. Logan looked stunned but wasn't pulling away, the opposite, the hand that once smudged her tears away, continued to stroke her cheek. Rory slowly retracted her hands, uncovering his mouth.

Its only seconds before his face shift into the determined expression she came to recognize; in one swift move, Logan leans in, his hand cradling the back of her head, his lips capturing hers. They are soft; his lip is always incredibly soft and inviting like a honey trap. Logan deepens the kiss, and it lasts until they are entirely breathless.

"I know you can do that.. but…" Rory whispered shakily, the tips of her fingers grasped limply at the edges of his shirt collar. As if it was the only thing stopping her from being swallowed up by some whirlpool.

His lips quickly pecked hers again, making her swallow her follow up questions. "Cher is never wrong,"

He relished in his response like he somehow got the upper hand. He glows like he experienced some epiphany she didn't share.

"Food's getting cold, let's eat." His hand pulled her off the floor into a standing position; she just goes with it, like she always does when she freezes, and he's taking control of the situation.

What just happened?

"Thursday at 7 p.m." Logan stops unpacking the takeaway food mid-way, looking at her expectedly. Her brain is like a cloud of cotton candy; she never heard anything he said.

"What?"

"Dinner at Ben's."

**~w~**

* * *

"I've been subpoenaed." Rory jotted down the last tasks and closing details before closing her notebook at the end of her monthly meeting with Ben.

"To court?" Ben wondered at loud scanning the new e-mails in his inbox.

"To dinner." Rory caught the hint of a smile on the man's face. Other than that, he gave no response. "Should I bring something? Wine? Cake? Shield of armor?"

"Nah, I think you're good. Logan has it covered. I never thought he'd cave." Ben looked very pleased with himself. "Anything else?" He added when her leaving the office prolonged.

Rory hesitated a moment, clenching on her notes. Asking Ben was her best chance; the man was a walking-talking Logan thesaurus. Oh, what the hell, it wasn't like she'd get any further explanation from Logan. He kept giving her this secret smile and shrugged. "Why is Cher never wrong?"

Ben's expression changed quickly from pleased to apprehensive. Logan's best friend seemed to be carefully considering his words. His eyes rapidly cast to the glass wall partitioning his and Logan's office. The last glass-wall standing. Logan was tied up on the phone, twirling the golf club away. She struck a chord; the mention of Cher meant something.

"I need more context."

Now she knew for sure he could disperse the fog for her. "Just something Logan said to me the other day."

"He went movie-geek on you? just out of the blue?" Her boss wore an obnoxiously amused expression on once again. It reminded her of someone. She felt like she visited this conversation before.

With Colin.

"Not exactly." Rory kept vague; she didn't want to show her hand. A Movie? "Last I checked Cher was a singer."

"True. I wouldn't consider her a stellar actress." Ben removed his glasses, cleaning them ceremonially. His tell. He was pointing her towards a clue. "But there are some movies, some _soundtracks_."

"Ben, can we stop talking in riddles?" Why couldn't he just tell her straight?

"Look it up." Her boss quickly retraced his steps. Damn his loyalty. "I'll see you Thursday."

**Xx**

Rory stormed back in the girls' shared office like a woman with a mission. She swung her chair impatiently, clicking on the browser to open a YouTube tab.

"Where's the fire?" Nicole wondered.

"What Cher songs do you know?" Rory asked, typing 'Cher songs' into the search line.

Nicole and Kate exchanged careful looks. Kate decided to bite, "Logan has a Cher ringtone."

"Not that one. Songs from movies." Rory dismissed the suggestion unfazed. Her blue eyes were scanning the entries that showed up on the webpage. None of the titles indicated part of the soundtracks.

"Ah. Well, there's the Shoop Shoop Song. You know the one." Kate moved from her desk to Rory's, taking control of the mouse, clicking on the video entry.

Rory's heart fluttered in her chest at first notes. '_Does he love me? I wanna know…'_

"Oh, I love this song! Cher is such a badass." Nicole exclaimed as the song continued to play.

_'If you wanna know if he loves you so. It's in his kiss.'_

"Damn, he's one romantic bastard." Kate nudged Rory playfully and leaned to whisper so Nicole wouldn't hear. "Keep your pregnant hormones in check."

_**It's in his kiss.**_

**~w~**

* * *

"Ummm... hello?" Rory answered her phone, sleepily.

"I want to go to the stars thingy." Lorelai's voice charged down the phone. "Grandma said you are coming, and Logan will be there too."

"Mom? Where's the clock?" Rory felt around in the dark; the other side of the bed was empty. The only remains of Logan's earlier presence are his scent and the tennis ball he left behind. The light of the muted T.V. in the other room blinked through the open bedroom door. The man never sleeps.

"I mean, you said that I could meet Logan properly, and you know how good I am when there's booze involved!"

"One thirty!" Rory cried tiredly. Even just woken up, she could easily calculate the time difference.

"What? No, it's ten-thirty at yours! I know the time difference between Seattle and here. Were you sleeping? You never go to sleep that early." Lorelai seemed to quickly recover from this surprising information, moving on to a more pressing matter, "I mean, is there a reason I wasn't invited?

"Argh. Can't we talk about this tomorrow?" Rory whined to the phone. She was tired; every organ related to her reproductive system felt either sore, uncomfortable, or sensitive. All she wanted was to plunge back into her bed, although she slowly concluded that Logan's mattress upstairs was much more comfortable.

"It is tomorrow." Lorelai insisted, "I just don't think it's right that they get first dibs on him. I mean, I am your mom, and we are very close, in case you haven't heard, and I should get to know him first!"

Unlike before college, Rory would not say they are freakishly close anymore. They haven't been for the last couple of years.

"You already know him." This conversation felt surreal. What has sprung this on?

"But I don't know him - know him, like I will know him if you let me go to the stars thingy."

Ah, the planetarium event. Logan as her plus one. Emily Gilmore must have played on Lorelai's strings when Logan's RSVP came through. Her Grandmother probably gloated right in her mother's face. Rory was sure of it.

"I didn't think you'd want to come to the stars thingy." Rory prompted herself on the pillows.

"Why not?" Her mother sounded almost offended.

"Well, Grandma is hosting it at Yale, first of all, and we all know how you feel about the Logan situation. You've made your feelings pretty clear." Last they spoke on Thanks Giving Lorelai presented a firm stance on dis-acknowledging anything Logan. They barely spoke since then, one-liner text messages at best.

"Hey, this guy is in your life, and I want to know him. Don't you want me to know him?"

"Of course, I want you to know him."

"Okay, so –"

"Is dad coming?" Rory asked. It is best that her mother would have a chaperon.

"Of course, Tux is one of his best looks." Lorelai clicked off quickly as if to prevent both women from changing their minds.

Rory threw the blanket off her, flinging her legs over the edges of the bed. The persistence pressure in her bladder calling. All these stupid fluids Logan made her drink. Too quick. Rory closed her eyes, her hands supporting her body as a familiar dizzy spell attacked her. It happened more frequently in the last few days. Mostly on set where she sometimes spent crunched down to get the right angle of a shoot, but at work too, if she stood up too quickly.

Her hand moved to rub her lower back slowly as she made her way to the bathroom to relieve herself. The pains in her lower only seemed to dim after Logan rubbed a tennis ball over it. Some Physiotherapy trick. It's how she's fallen asleep.

But know they back.

The undertones of Logan's voice carried in the quiet apartment when she finished her business in the bathroom. Rory grabbed the abandoned tennis ball.

"Colin, I'll have to call you back. I have a call waiting." Logan lied to the invisible party on the other side of the phone. He still kept the conversation going for a few moments after Rory planted herself in his lap and the tennis ball in his hand.

Rory let out an involuntary moan at the first circular motions of the ball pressed a little more forcefully on her flesh over the nighty. Her face instinctively found the crook of his neck.

"It's so nice of you to pretend you're not dismissing the call _you_ initiated to have sex. Tell Gilmore I can hear her moans from New York." Colin made sure to have the last word before ending the call.

"Colin's crass."

"Means he cares. Why you're up? Were you sick?" Logan's tone switched from amused to worried.

"No. My mom called. I don't want to talk about it." Rory added quickly; her hands found their way under his t-shirt, feeling up his abs.

It briefly crosses her mind that interactions with her mother undeniably fueled her need for physical contact with Logan. This isn't the first time she sought him after. Rory quickly pushed it to the back of her mind.

She and Logan seemed to find their comfortable rhythm again. A less hesitated dance. Dinner at Ben's went without a hitch; she wasn't sick despite her nervousness. Today was a good day. She wanted to keep it that way.

"You will have to tell me if you intend to take advantage of me," Logan smiled into her ear. His one hand kept rubbing the tennis ball, the other sliding up her naked thigh, his thumb fluttering over her nakedness. He was on to her.

"Logan," Rory's hand closed on him. Her teeth grazed his lower lips suggestively.

"You're making me feel cheap. Fine. I'll fuck you first, and then we'll talk."

**~w~**

* * *

"This coffee is disgusting. Why did we switch to this brand?" Rory complained loudly. The other two women in the breakroom didn't seem to share her sentiment. "I'm throwing it out. What happened to the purple pods? There was a gazillion of them yesterday. The purple pods were good."

"Well, as you already know, the old coffee machine broke down. Plus, George Clooney is the presenter for Nespresso - and he's hot." Shiri explained the logic behind the new coffee machine.

"Is that what you told Logan?"

"You'd be surprised – it wasn't a tough sell. Logan said that if it's good enough for George Clooney, it's good enough for him." Shiri's skillful hands hovered over Kate's eyebrows running a string over them.

Rory rolled her eyes. From Satellites to coffee machine Logan always wanted the same kind of toys George Clooney had.

"What's wrong with the Nespresso? It tasted the same for me. Maybe it's because…" Kate caught her words just in time, "Because I don't have your refined taste buds. I just drink it because it keeps me awake."

"If you throw it out, you'll have to bring your own because Logan cut down the coffee supply budget. And the rest is decaff."

Rory turned sharply towards the office manager, distressed, "Why would he do that?"

"Beats me." Shiri's muttered, her mouth closed around the string she used to plunk Kate's eyebrows. "I don't know why Logan does the things he does. I didn't feel like arguing with him."

"Since when?" Rory kept looking at the office manager, skeptically. He's Logan, and she's Shiri; there is no way this has gone down quietly without an argument. Logan would do it for sport, for the sake of the debate. Somewhere in the process, he supplied a reason.

"He might have said something about disproportioned consumption."

"Disproportioned consumption?! Of coffee?" Rory repeated in disbelieve. "He can't kill coffee."

"Not my decision, take that up with him. I just do what I'm told: Move the papers around, staple, field his calls, and admire his Lego models. You know, maybe I should ask for a raise." Shiri ignored the brunette studying her handy work on Kate's eyebrows, holding up scissors. "Just a little bit of a trim, and it's perfect."

"One day, the health department is going to close me down. You are breaking hygiene regulations in the workplace." Logan leaned against the break-room door. The wide edge of the golf club resting on his shoulder.

Shiri's roll of eyes was the only gesture the office manager paid to acknowledge him.

"You." Rory's face snapped from her two friends to her… coffee thief. "You killed coffee!"

**Xx**

"You can't do this, Logan. It's a degradation of the workplace environment." Rory ranted, following him back to his office. The coffee cup clasped tightly in her hand. It was disgusting, but it was better than decaff.

"There was only one type of coffee in here before. Now there's two. That's an upgrade. Everything is the same, just a different package." He ushered her in, closing the door behind her.

"First, decaff is not coffee. Second, no, it's not the same. This stuff is disgusting! Taste it! It's sour." She pushed the cup into his hands, daring him.

Logan took his time, lingering the liquid in his mouth. He made an undecided face, taking another.

"See what I mean?" Rory eyed him intensely.

"Nope." She could tell he was trying to contain a smile. He was enjoying this. "Taste perfectly fine to me. Maybe your taste buds are the problem."

"My taste buds have been masterly educated on the subject of coffee. They are carefully refined. Thank you very much - and this does not taste as it should. The purple pods are better. Where have they gone? There were plenty of them yesterday."

Logan sighed. He opened the drawer of his desk, throwing a purple pod her way, "One a day. You're switching to Decaff after this." He warns.

"Traitor. I'm leaving the bad coffee with you." Rory narrowed her eyes at him. Making her dramatic exit out of his office armed with the purple capsulate tightly in hand.

**Xx**

An hour later, Logan finds Rory emptying her stomach in the accessible stall. The sickness was new. As if finally, the image displayed on the ultrasound monitor and the heartbeat in audio hit home for Rory.

The past few days, everything made her sick. He caught her looking dizzy too but refrained from mentioning it after the first time when she went out of her way to hide it.

"Someone will see." She managed to make out between waves.

"I locked the door." Logan's dismissive tone indicated he doesn't particularly care. He sits down on the floor next to her, gently braiding the loose locks of her hair back. When the gagging stops, the toilet flush, he offers her the bottle of water he brought with him.

Rory shook her head, pressing her forehead into the cold porcelain seeking the cold sensation. Her vision momentary blacked. She felt dizzy. Logan was speaking, but the words didn't register. Just his worried tone.

"The purple pods make you sick. Mars bars make you sick too, aren't they?"

"And tacos. And burritos. And Samosas. The only thing I can keep down is apples and broccoli. It's all your fault." She accused. By now, no longer surprised Logan was keeping track, "A Gilmore baby would have never caused this."

"Huntzbergers are very opinionated. It's a family trait to announce our presence. Sorry about that." Logan chuckled, "So the apples are good?"

Rory nodded dejectedly, "I don't know what you put on it, but it works."

"Lemon juice." Logan kissed the crown of her head. Lemon, they discovered, seemed to wear off nausea. "What do you say we stick with the decaff but not too much? Less spicy food. And water, lots of water."

"Water makes me sick too," Rory grumbled. This new tidbit of information worried him.

"You need to drink water, Rory." Rory huffed in annoyance; she knew she did.

The doctor also scolded her that she didn't drink enough, but Logan didn't need reinforcement. Rory didn't tell him about the doctor's appointment after traces of blood appeared in her underwear. She knew he'd freak out in general, and even more once he'd learn the root of the matter was sexual intercourse. Rory knew, without a doubt, Logan would pull the plug on all things remotely sexual if he knew.

And she needed him not to while she dreaded the upcoming trip to the East coast.

Rory left the doctor's office slightly reassured the spotting was normal at this stage. The spotting didn't get any worse, but it didn't completely stop either.

"You want to sleep on the yellow couch again?" Logan's offered gently. He maneuvered her so she'd lay her head on his shoulder, his fingers unbraiding her hair. Rory, stubbornly enough, had only been persuaded a handful of times to take advantage of the piece of furniture he didn't bring himself to use.

But secretly, he loved watching her sleep on it knowing she was incubating his child. It was nearly poetic that a constant reminder of his past, a dubious gift from Chelsea, enabled his future.

Ben had laughed so hard when Logan unintentionally voiced it out loud.

"In a minute, I'm dizzy."

"Okay, is there anything else I need to be aware of?" Concern crept into his voice. Somehow they always ended up conducting meaningful conversations while sitting on the floor—especially in bathrooms.

"No," Rory said quickly, lifting her head too fast. The dizziness returned at once. She lowered her head back down. "Can you hum that song? The one you hum after we…"

"The David Gray song?"

Rory nodded distractedly. All this time, she had to do is just ask him what song it was?

**~w~**

* * *

"Logan. Finally! What's your estimated arrival?" Mitchum's voice explored into his ear after just one ring. "Barbara Ann was trying to contact you for hours! Natalie too! Your plane had landed hours ago! We talked about it, Logan, you can not just fall off the face of the earth like that."

Mitchum was mad.

Logan eyed the door he just exited helplessly. The bright wall of the fluorescent-lit corridor felt hostile. Logan knew that no matter where he'd take this call – what he needed to tell his father would not go down well.

"I'm not coming." Logan rubbed his neck, keeping the phone pressed to his ear.

"Logan, you are a keynote speaker at the Journalism Association conference. You have been invited to speak - do not humiliate me by bailing out last minute."

"Dad," Both men were familiar with the reluctance underlining the younger man's voice.

"And the board meeting, what about that? We scheduled it according to _your_ schedule. You are taking over this company, Logan. People need to start recognizing your face and your role in this company. It's time to stop running and hiding in Seattle." Mitchum huffed in displeasure, "I've honored you because you've asked, but we have a deal - I keep my end; you keep your responsibilities to this company. And to this family."

Logan kept rubbing his neck. The conference, the Planetarium event too, like everything else was the last thing on his mind.

"You can manage it. I have more pressing responsibilities." Logan managed calmly; he always lost when going head to head with his dad if he didn't keep his cool.

"Goddammit Logan, it's a four days trip. The girl won't bail because you're on business for four days. Ben can handle Current; he's been doing it for three years quite successfully while you were in London. Family comes first, Logan."

Damn straight; family comes first. Logan felt his temper flare, but by some miracle, he managed to keep himself in check. Logan licked his lips; his mouth felt dry. The words bruised his tongue like gravel, "I'm at the hospital."

"Oh, for god sakes! What did you do now?"

"I'll call you later with the details. I have to make some urgent calls." Logan hanged up before his father could place another word in the edgeways. He quickly opened his phonebook and strolled down his contact until he reached Finn.

Logan sighed. This was one call he didn't want to make.

**~w~**

* * *

**June 2009**

_**New England**_

"What is she doing?" Lorelai asked Finn who watched Chelsea from a safe intervention distance.

For days Lorelai had watched with interest, the interior designer Finn suggested they hire wander around the building site that was the Pyramid. At first, the girl said she was looking for some inspiration. Lorelai let her be.

But two days ago, the blonde who answered to the name Chelsea Rose laid on her back with a sketch board hugged to her chest, staring at the ceiling. She didn't move for a whole day until Finn forced her home.

The next morning she returned, practicing the same position.

Now, for the third day, Chelsea laid on the floor again, her hands moving animatedly, pointing at various spots in the ceiling as if she was talking to someone. It went on for hours. Lorelai finally decided to get to the bottom of this weird behavior.

"She's writing Logan a sonnet," Finn answered as if it wasn't out of the ordinary.

"Are you sure she doesn't need hospitalization?" Lorelai challenged her business partner. His patient handling of the interior designer he called friend was admirable. Lorelai couldn't deny the girl was going through some existential crisis, yet she doubted the methods her friend believed in seemed to be working.

Finn sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, "The only two people who can convince her into getting treatment is Logan and her father. I can't ask the first one, he's a mess, and he isn't talking to me at the moment. The other one disowned her."

"If she loves him so much, maybe she should just get back together with him."

"She would in a heartbeat. But it's never going to happen. She sliced his heart open most brutally. The divorce officially finalized in March."

Lorelai stayed silent for a moment, wondering if she should just ask. She's been curious about the circumstance of their parking lot meeting with Logan - Finn's friend who lived in London. The one who refused to help recruit the interior designer, who turned out to be his ex-wife.

"So, what happened?"

"You don't know? It was the hottest topic in Hartford for the longest time."

Lorelai glanced over to the woman on the dirty floor and back at Finn. "I refrain from the Hartford grapevine. I've been the topic of conversation one too many times. It's not fun once you're the scandal."

"Long story short, she was his queen since he was sixteen. Logan wanted to start a family, and she cheated on him." Finn lowered his voice, "On his birthday, in his bed. With a woman. She wanted him to catch her."

Lorelai gasped, "Why? How do you know that?"

"She told me. Sometimes who you are is bigger than what you desperately want to be."

"That's insightful." Lorelai chimed in thoughtfully.

"Chelsea and Logan, that was two stars on a collision route. They shouldn't have gotten married in the first place. The atmosphere is going to burn for a while. But she needs to do this." The Australian waved at the ceiling the blonde woman was talking to with some certainty, "Whatever this is. She needs to let him go. It's better for everyone involved that they are not together anymore."

**~w~**

* * *

**June 2014**

_**New England**_

"And this is what we unofficially call the Sonnet room." Lorelai Gilmore escorted the young couple into the last part of the wedding venue tour. Lorelai had perfected the show she put on for couples who expressed an interest to tie the knot at the Pyramid. She and Finn never planned it to be, but the Pyramid was a huge hit with couples.

The main hall with its nighttime ceiling was part of its allure.

Lorelai Gilmore loved weddings. She loved the sophisticated transformation a familiar venue underwent once the elegant flower arrangements were set in place, the tasteful dining arrangement laid out, the music played and the stylish dressed up people arrived—a celebration of senses.

Lorelai Gilmore loved weddings but never married herself. It wasn't that she was unlucky in love. She had her fair chances. In fact, she almost get married twice.

Once to a nice man who filled the room in a thousand daisies for her, Max. Rory's English teacher, was her first real grown-up relationship. In retrospect, she rushed into it and never took a step back to think, until the night before her wedding. That's when her cold feet won over; she packed Rory into her jeep in the middle of the night for a road trip and bailed on her groom.

She couldn't marry him. She didn't love him because she still loved someone else. As long as Christopher was in her life, Lorelai knew no other relationship will ever last. And thanks to Rory, he was in her life forever.

She was it for him. He was it for her.

Christopher had always wanted her, in his own selfish way, even when he had his shit to sort out. Now, the man she loved since sixteen was waiting patiently for her cold feet to warm.

Her second wedding was pending, on indefinite hold.

"The Sonnet room?" Lorelai smiled at the bride to be moved voice. This was usually the moment Lorelai managed to make couples book the Pyramid most prestigious hall to host their wedding.

"Just look at the ceiling. The star map is a Chelsea Rose original; we had it especially made for this room. There's no other made like this in the whole world. Its made of over 10,000 LEDs mimicking the night sky on a meteor shower night."

Lorelai flicked the lighting switch on, the lights dimmed, and the twinkles on the ceiling started moving like shooting stars. The hotel manager wrung her neck up to examine the romantically lit roof. The outcome never ceased to amaze her. Chelsea did a great job. The couple followed her lead.

"Isn't it the most romantic thing you have ever seen?" Lorelai posed her question carefully, "We usually turn it on for the slow dance. She designed an ode to her husband."

"Oh, how romantic!"

Every time Lorelai told the story, she felt phony. It was her bestseller closing argument, but it was an altered truth. No one wanted to hear of a high as a kite, broken-hearted Chelsea Rose lying on the dirty floor, staring at the ceiling, orchestrating her hands around like a conductor, and mumbling to herself while construction workers maneuvered around her.

It wasn't a love song. Chelsea created a eulogy of great love.

"You can take a moment to take it in. I'll be right over if you have any questions." Lorelai smiled at the excited bride and the lost looking husband, making her way toward the bar where Finn counted stock. His favorite task.

The Australian looked at her just as she approached. He was talking on the phone, his expression severe.

"Actually, she's standing right beside me now. Oh. Hang on." Finn holds out his phone for the dark-haired woman. "It's for you."

"Me?" Finn nodded carefully. Lorelai pressed the phone to her ear happily, never bothering to look at the caller ID; who else could it be. "Hi Kim, should I be expecting an amazing brownie delivery?"

"Lorelai," Logan Huntzberger's voice came through the earpiece without pleasantries, "How fast can you get to Seattle?"


	35. Chapter 35

_AN: Have to admit it turned out to be a shorter and a faster delivery than I imagined it would be. This bit hosts one of my favorite scenes in the whole story. So it made me wonder what's yours? I'd love to hear if you'd care to share. __I've been enjoying your reviews and comments, as always. _

* * *

**June 2014**

_**Seattle**_

"Where is she?" Lorelai stormed through the door like a full-blown Water Tornado forgoing any pleasantries. Not that Logan expected them. The dark-haired woman's eyes desperately scanned the apartment for her daughter.

"Bedroom."

Lorelai Gilmore shoots toward the direction of the bedroom like an arrow. "I'm going to the drug store to pick up the prescriptions," Logan called after her retreating back.

"Whatever. We need coffee."

**xx**

Lorelai crawled on the top to the bed next to her daughter's body. Her fingers gently forked through Rory's hair. Just like when she was little. Blue eyes immediately opened.

"Hey, kid. Mommy's here."

"Where's Logan?" Rory jumped in alarm, "You're not supposed to be here."

"Says who? Where is it written?" Lorelai ignored her daughter's question of the whereabouts of the man who answered the door, for the time being. The man whose abrupt, out of the blue phone call, rushed her to Seattle without much explanation.

"I'm an adult; adults don't need their Mommy."

"Everybody needs their mommy." Lorelai sat up, matching her daughter's height, pulling her into an embrace. It's been so long since she had her arms wrapped around her baby. "Well, not me.. I'm not a good example; I mean Emily. Gees."

"Why did you never take me camping?" Rory asked in a small voice.

"Camping? are you kidding? I couldn't get you to step on wet grass until you were three."

"If you had taken me camping, I'd have wilderness skills. I'd be tough. I won't be the pathetic person who needs her mother to stay all night the first night at Yale." Rory's shoulders shook with muffled sniffles.

"It doesn't matter. Shhh…Logan called, and I'm here now. Everything is going to be fine."

"Logan took me camping."

"See, it's never too late to work on those wilderness skills." Lorelai was confused; all this camping talk was strange. "Rory, do you want to tell me what happened? Logan was skimpy on the details."

"He never says anything. I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to sit around wondering when we're going talk if he's mad, why is he mad? I always have to go and ask Ben. You're supposed to tell your girlfriend things. That's the whole point of having a girlfriend, isn't it?"

"You're boyfriend and girlfriend now?" Lorelai stroked her daughter's hair through her jumbled rant. That was a new development she wasn't familiar with.

"He won't even fight. He just shuts down, gets upset, gets mad, and disappears. I hate this. I messed up, Mom. And now he's gone." Rory was getting more distressed by the minute. "I didn't love it enough."

"Love it? Who's gone?" Lorelai questioned in alarm. An uneasy feeling bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

"The baby," Rory uttered quietly. Lorelai nearly chocked with surprise at the two words but had little time to form a coherent thought. "I'm going to be a terrible mother. I already am a terrible mother. I'm awful."

"Rory, no. You're not awful." Lorelai was quick to reassure, although her brain was still processing. Her daughter, her only daughter, was pregnant - and she didn't even know about it. Was she ever going to know about it if this hadn't happened?

"It is. It's true, Logan thinks so."

"Did Logan say that?" Lorelai felt the lioness in her rearing her head. She's going to strangle the man.

"He didn't have to say it. He thinks it. It's all my fault. I kept forgetting to take my prenatal pills on time. I drank coffee behind his back, even when it made me so so sick. I didn't eat my broccoli. I didn't tell him about the bleeding or the dizziness... And... And… now there's nothing."

"No, Rory. What's love got to do with it?" Lorelai tried to ease the numb reasoning referencing Tina Turner. "These things just happen; that's just nature. It's nobody's fault."

To her horror, it has the opposite undesired effect. Rory's nose twitched, her lips quivered, and waterfalls burst out of her eyes accompanied by chocked sobs.

"Shhh, it's okay, everything will be okay." Lorelai offered the best comfort she could. "Let mommy hug you for a little bit."

"I want Logan." Lorelai's heart broke into a thousand pieces.

"Honey, he just went to the drug store. He'll be right back." Lorelai forced out. Her answer seemed to clam Rory a little; she finally relaxed in her mother's embrace.

"Can you stay for dinner?"

"I can stay all night. And some more." Lorelai pressed a kiss to Rory's forehead.

"Can we order Sushi?"

"We will order the biggest Sushi platter you've seen."

**Xx**

"Your mom is here, Rory." Logan reminded her gently, but it seemed to do nothing.

The relief from the hospital's drugs seemed to be wearing off, and Rory refused to take the next dose of the painkillers the doctor has prescribed.

She wanted something else.

"I'm thirty, not sixteen. I'm in pain; I'm bleeding; my hormones are running like headless chickens, and I hadn't had a drink in ages. I want to have fun." Rory held out her finger warningly at his face. As if she knew what he was going to say. "No. I don't want to think about it. I want us to eat Sushi, drink tones of wine, and smoke weed. I know you have it."

A jumbo size party platter of Sushi was already on its way. No one can beat Lorelai take out ordering abilities. She was quick, she was fierce, and she scored them free pieces of extra Sashimi.

Once Logan returned, Lorelai hurried to the liquor store as fast as her feet and google maps enabled her. After all, Gilmores don't run. Rory suspected her mother had different reasons for going along with the idea of a heavily boozed night.

It was hard to miss the tension between her two Ls once they shared the same space.

However, Logan was less pleased with the plan mother and daughter webbed. And now Rory's nose was quivering like a Disney animal, close to tears on the bathroom floor.

"It's not wise to mix… they gave you pretty strong narcotics." Logan tried to reason while avoiding the words 'Can't' and 'No.' "We can do the Sushi, and you can have a glass of wine. We'll do the other thing later."

He meant when her mother is gone.

"It will make me feel good. I just want to feel good. I just want to forget today ever happened." The tears were no longer at bay; she couldn't control them.

"Hey, look at me. I know you're hurting. I can't even begin to imagine…" Logan forced her heart-shaped face to look at him. He can't believe he's about to use his Mitchum's words, but he'd at a loss here. He'll fall back on the familiar. "But Huntzbergers don't quit. You get up, dust off, smile through it, and you double down. I'll give you all the time in the world. But I dare you to move."

His words stunned her into a halt. "I'm not a Huntzberger."

She is, by connection, even if he'll never officially make her one.

"But I am." Logan quickly recovered from his unconscious slip.

They stare at each other. It's a weird moment.

"I'm back!" Lorelai's cheery voice rang out loudly, accompanied by the slam of the front door. "I am fully stocked with wine and snacks! I got a text saying the Sushi is fifteen minutes away!"

"Mom?" Rory called out, tearing her face from his grip, quickly wiping the tears with her hands. She rushed out of the bathroom. "Logan and I are going to smoke a joint, do you want some too?"

The brown back of alcohol nearly dropped to the floor. Lorelai stared at her daughter; when she left her twenty minutes ago, Rory was slightly cheered up and composed. Now her eyes were again puffy, red-rimmed, and watery-blue.

"Okay." The word fell off Lorelai's mouth slowly, suspiciously eyeing the man standing behind her daughter. Logan could tell she didn't believe the words came out of her daughter's mouth.

"Great. It's in your socks drawer upstairs, right? I'll get it." Rory didn't really wait for his answer.

The apartment door closed as she made her haste exit. For the third, and not for the last time tonight, Logan felt the disapproving vibes radiating off Lorelai.

"Not my idea." Logan felt forced to defend himself. He set himself up for this by daring Rory. Somehow pushing her always backfires. "Don't worry; it knocks her out pretty fast. Maybe it's for the best."

"Yes, that makes me feel so much better." Lorelai took a bottle of red out of the brown paper bag. She didn't even try to keep the sarcasm and out of her voice, "I'm going to get ahead start if you don't mind."

**Xx**

Logan positioned himself with careful precaution on the floor at the bottom of the couch, keeping his distance. He assumed it'd be wise to avoid the couch. Rory tended to get handsy when high.

Logan listened to their wine intoxicated banter without participating. Snarky, clever commentary, which amused Rory. It continued for a while until Rory's stomach filled with all the Sushi she could eat, and the joint kicked in. That's when she lost all interest in the movie. And she started wiggling her toes in the back of his hair, trying to tickle him.

"Stop." His hand grabbed her foot, stopping the abuse. Rory giggled quietly in response. On the other side of the couch, Lorelai pretended to focus on the Meg Ryan romantic comedy.

Next, Rory's legs dangled into his lap, and in less than ten minutes, Rory has wholly abandoned her upright sitting on the couch in favor of Logan's lap. Just what Logan wanted to avoid.

Lorelai looked very interested in her glass of wine.

"Take a shower with me." She whispered suggestively into his ear.

"Tomorrow." Logan shoots her down gently. He was getting enough evil eye as it is for tonight. The last thing he needed was to look like he was the enablers of bad ideas.

"No, now." Rory pressed her face into his neck, "The room is swashy, Logan. Make it stop."

"It'll stop soon." He kissed her head.

"I'm sorry I didn't love it enough." She whispered back. Logan caught Lorelai downing another large gulp of wine from the corner of his eye, tears glossing her eyes. Secretly, he hated they were being watched.

The moment Lorelai has set foot in the apartment, Logan regretted making the phone call. It felt like the right thing to do at the hospital, when Dawn suggested he'd called Rory's mother - after Rory kicked both of them out of the ER exam room. Now he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Shh." Logan soothed, trying to keep his emotions in check. He cradled her head into his shoulder and started to hum quietly, hoping she'll doze off in a matter of moment. "Sleep it off."

The faint ring of his phone come from somewhere in the apartment. He couldn't remember where he left it. Rory mumbled drunkenly, "Your phone."

"It's my dad. I'll call him back later. Don't worry about it."

After Rory's eyelids eventually gave in to sleep, Logan ended up carrying her to bed. He retrieved his lost phone from the bathroom. He took his time listening to the numerous voice mails his father had left on his machine.

The T.V was still playing when he returned to the main room, ready to return his father's calls, only to find Lorelai waiting. Her wine glass full again, her expression serious.

"Alright. From the top, in detail. What the hell happened?"

**~w~**

* * *

Lorelai took in the young man's frantic movements.

Admittingly, Logan Huntzberger could pull off a suit. Yet, he didn't look nearly as composed as his attire indicated he should be. His suit's jacket laid on the edge of the couch. The sleeves of the light blue dress shirt he wore were all rolled up; a tie stuck out of his pants pocket.

Logan was leaving for New York. A business trip.

This was not the sight Lorelai expected to be meet first thing in the morning.

"She can take a sleeping pill if she needs to, but she has to take them at least two hours apart from the pain killers." Logan pointed the various boxes lined in front of him, "If she needs something stronger, or needs to take a different kind, then there's a number of a doctor. Her name's Dawn. She promised to be available, and she'll come right over if needed."

Rory was not going to be happy if it came to be, but Logan didn't care.

"Pills. Two hours. Doctor number. Got it." Lorelai returned shortly.

"If she's bleeding too bad, or spikes fever, developed an allergy or anything or anything else extreme, you take her straight to the hospital - and you call me. And call Ben – that's my business partner. And Natalie, that's my New York assistance, she knows how to find me if I'm not available. I'll write down the number." He scribbled the number from memory. "I'm going to have my phone on at all times."

"Logan."

"Take out menus are here." The blonde man opened the designated drawer in the kitchen, "Make sure she eats something and takes her vitamins. She needs to eat vegetables. There are crackers; I don't know if she'll want those, but they sometimes help…" The mentions of crackers made him pause his autopilot.

Lorelai watched the sudden hit of reality on his face with a pang of sympathy. He was ratting off instructions to a situation that didn't exist anymore. Rory wasn't pregnant anymore.

The young man cleared his throat. "I bought the Marshmallows she likes too. And Campbell's soup. There's coffee in the second cabinet to the right. Not decaf."

"Logan," Lorelai sharply cut off the blonde man's new rant. Sparing them both any prolonged moments of conversation. "I've got it covered."

"I'll leave my dad's number just in case." The blonde man added another number on the note. "I'm going to tell her I'm leaving."

**Xx**

"You're good to go?" Rory sat on the bed, the laptop in her lap. She never looked away from the editing software on the laptop as Logan sat down at the side of the bed. Proofed self-defense mechanism if she didn't see him go, it didn't happen.

"Yeah." The expression on Logan's face was full of discontent. "Tell me not to go."

"What?"

"Tell me not to get on that plane. Tell me to blow off my father, the paper, the whole Huntzberger destiny. Just tell me I can figure something else out. Just tell me not to go." This was as close as Logan Huntzberger ever got to the point of begging.

"I can't do that." Rory didn't want this responsibility.

"You're my Ace of Spades."

"Huntzberger obligations. They are yours to keep; I'm not part of this equation, remember?"

Logan took a deep breath pulling back. This woman had the undeniable talent to throw his words back in his face. "Are you sure?"

Rory nods. He has to go; this trip wasn't out of the blue.

Plus, The tension between her two Ls was palpable; you could cut it with a spoon. Rory didn't remember how she got to bed, but she woke up this morning with an unexpected L in bed beside her. Her mother. Rory was grateful Logan called her mother, but now she was kind of at a loss at what to do with her here. Lorelai's presence burst their careful Seattle bubble. The outside universe was creeping in, pulling them apart when all she wanted to do was cling to him.

Less than a day passed, and a silent battle of dominance was on full display. She guessed Logan felt robbed of his rightful spot. Rory felt torn between the two of them.

"I'm okay; Mom is here."

"Okay, I'll be back in less than twenty-four hours." Logan quickly suppressed the hint of discontent with her answer. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head before rising to his feet. Her hand grabbed on his hand.

"A proper goodbye," Rory demanded. She hated it when he kept things PG.

Her hands run on the front of his shirt when the kiss ends, smoothing invisible wrinkles. Logan's shirts are always perfectly ironed. There was no point in delaying his departure any longer. "I love this blue shirt on you. Knock them dead, Space Cowboy."

**~w~**

* * *

"Here, he is! The man with the magic touch. My son, ladies, and gentlemen. They are going to be talking about this for years to come!" Mitchum stood up, clapping his hands loudly, as Logan approached their designated table. Mitchum lived for the chance to show off.

Logan flaunted his society appreciated smile. Public speaking came naturally. He knew he did well enough, but for the life of him, Logan just couldn't quite remember what he actually said standing up on that stage.

Mitchum pulled him into a professional man hug, patting on his back, speaking directly into his ear; "I'm glad you stepped up. Proud of you, Logan. You did well."

His fingers gripped onto the older man's suit sleeve as he started to pull away. Logan found himself reluctant to step out of his father's awkward embrace. He hadn't expected to find the contact comforting. "In a minute."

He didn't know he needed his father until this instant. And now he didn't know what to do with this feeling.

The older man froze. His palm stiffly moved to cup the back of Logan's neck, "Okay, boy?"

"No."

"As many minutes as you need." Mitchum struggled with the awkwardness of this public display of emotion. Logan's outbursts of vulnerability always left him tense. "What would Aaron Rosen do now?"

**Xx**

"Don't you ever tell your sister about this, I'll deny it ever happened." Mitchum closed his teeth on the burger, holding on the paper warp. "And don't tell your mother, either. she's going to talk my ear off about my blood pressure."

Honor would never believe him, and Logan didn't voluntarily conduct conversations with his mother.

Macdonald's. Logan tried to remember if his father is ever taken him to Macdonald's when he was little. The answer was a definite no. Never.

The oddest thing is that here he was spending time with his father, for comfort. Because he needed someone to talk to – and it didn't feel that weird. Logan knew things have changed between them after he divorced Chelsea. Their relationship shifted after London.

"Yours looks better. Well, you're a good orderer, you've always been a good orderer, even when you were eight years old, you always ordered well."

"It's a gift."

"It is. Do you know what I should do? I should just order whatever you're ordering, no matter what it is. What is that?"

"A big Mac."

"What did I order?"

"The same. It's garbage food. You don't go expecting much with fast food."

"Oh." Mitchum seemed uncomfortably uncertain again.

"Rory likes garbage food. Chinese, Cheetos, chicken wings." Logan felt obligated to bail his father out. Mitchum was trying his best to be - what was the word? Logan searched his brain for the right vocabulary. Supportive? Fatherly?

"I like Rory. She has 'Umpff.' How's she?"

Logan shrugged. Once he called his father back with his reasons and the details, Mitchum's attitude mellowed because family comes first. Logan was a little overwhelmed at the speed all obligations dropped, but his speech at the conference.

"Hard to say. Rory's mom is there. It gets awkward."

"Girls need their mothers, Logan. A gentleman bites his tongue, duck his head, and bow out." Mitchum cited an unknown source, "Your grandmother told me that once. The wisest thing the woman ever said. I couldn't stand the lady."

Logan chewed slowly on his fries. His grandmother of his mother's side. It was always discomforting to realize how alike he and his father potentially were.

"Did they do a D&C?"

Logan moved uncomfortably in his plastic seat. Discussing gynecological procedures with his father was uncharted territory. To do it in the middle of a MacDonald's branch upped the awkwardness.

"I had a byline on illegal abortions once." Mitchum spared them both the need to dwell on the subject. "So, what now?"

"I go back to Seattle, see where Rory's head at." Logan poked the chubby ketchup package with his finger. "Promise me this doesn't change anything."

"It doesn't change anything, Logan. Huntzbergers don't quit. You get up, dust off, and you double down. We bounce back." His father decisively dipped a couple of chips in a pool of mayonnaise. "They do have the best fries. We never did this, did we?"

"No."

"I feel like I should get you one of the toys they give out. Make it a full experience."

The sides of Logan's lips twitched a little. His father could be funny. "I'm good."

"I'm sorry, Logan." Logan wasn't sure if Mitchum Huntzberger was apologizing or conveying his condolences. "I'm glad you came to me."

**~w~**

* * *

"Logan, if you don't stop, I'll banish you to the couch," Rory whispered tiredly with her eyes closed. The man who tossed and turned restlessly beside her froze on his spot.

"Sorry. Sorry. Go back to sleep. I'll try to fidget less." Once he slipped into bed, sleep avoided him. He had managed to tip-toe very quietly into Rory's apartment well past midnight. Logan was extremely relieved not to find and Lorelai in Rory's bed. The sheets have also been changed.

"Didn't you take your sleeping pill?"

"No." When he does, he's out like a light.

"Why not?"

"It was too late to take them. And you won't be able to wake me if something's wrong." He throws the covers off him, his legs swinging off the bed, "I'm going to get some water. Go back to sleep."

"What are you doing there?" Rory opened one eye at the sound of an unusual rustle in the dark.

"Ah, trying to get my pants on and get some water." He said, stepping into his pants.

"Oh, some water with your pants."

"Yeah, I don't want to go out there without pants." Reasonable enough, Logan slept in his boxers. Pants zipped, he reached for his t-shirt next.

"You're gonna put your shirt on to get water?"

"Yeah, your mom is out there, I don't want her to think I'm like David Hasselhoff or something." His voice muffled when he pulled the shift of his head.

"She's not gonna think you're David Hasselhoff." Rory rolled her eyes, but it's Lorelai, technically she could. "Socks? Logan? She's not gonna think anything weird. I promise."

"Socks without shoes look ridiculous. Go to sleep. I'll be right back."

"It's not the shoes; it's the socks," Rory muttered.

**Xx**

"Oh!" Lorelai's face fell with surprise. Logan holding a cup by the sink wasn't something she expected to find that late at night. He wasn't there when she has fallen asleep.

"Oh, hey,"

"Hey," Lorelai echoed back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't wake you, did I?" Logan genuinely looked apologetic and uncomfortable. He was barefoot, which might explain why she didn't hear him come in.

"No, I was just… craving some pie. But you know what… I'm… I'm not hungry." Her eyes fell on the glass of water in hand.

"I was… just needed some water."

"Oh. That's okay… I'll.." She turned to leave, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Lorelai."

"Yeah."

"I want you to know that I'm all in. I'm in with her. And I'm in with the kid. I'm not the guy who quits." Logan looked convinced, "We're gonna bounce back from this. It's just a title wave."

"Okay."

"Look, I know that you have this vision of me, and I know that Rory tells you stuff. But I want you to know I am not a cad. I don't want you to be worried."

"Well, I am worried. I'm a mom. That is what we do."

"Okay, what exactly are you worried about?"

"Okay. I'm worried that you're not worried enough. You take things lightly. This 'whole you gotta surf the waves' attitude, Kawabanga dude. I mean, you just lost a baby."

"I know. I know I did. Believe me. And I don't feel Kawabanga-dude inside. Believe me; I know this is big."

"You do?"

"Yeah. But I don't want to act like that in front of you. For one thing, the whole self-flagellation thing it's kinda embarrassing. And Rory doesn't need me to act like that while she's falling apart."

"Alright, well, it's good for me to know. It's good for me to know that you know you made a mistake."

"I made a mistake?" The way he poised his question revealed his disagreement.

"Okay." Lorelai jump at the opportunity to hash it out. She's been holding it in all day. "I think family is important. I think responsibility is important and dealing with reality is important, and stepping out in a crisis like this, to speak at a stupid conference and strike a business deal, doesn't make me think well of you."

It made Lorelai think of Chris's worst moments. When she sat in that hospital waiting room while her father was in surgery and Chris was MIA because he was upset.

"In fact, let's run an inventory of all the delightful things that happened since you waltzed into my daughter's life?" Lorelai's tongue clicked uncontrollably, "It turns out she has the habit of hooking up with random men, including her boss – which is you. And she has no problem broadcasting it to the entire world in the most graphical way known to humankind."

"I'm not happy about the comics, either." Logan set down the glass of water.

"She quits her job, in a spur of the moment decision, and takes off to the most deserted corners of the world with only a phone call. She smokes weed. She keeps secrets – Rory has never kept secrets from me. Don't even get me started on this ridiculous idea that you and her having a baby together is rational. She hasn't been talking to me for nearly a year."

Logan jaw visibly hardened.

Lorelai is far from done; "My Rory is not the type of girl who gets high to feel good and forget about her problems. She makes pro-con lists. She's the kind of girl who wallows with an ice cream bucket in front of a bad movie and cries on the bathroom floor."

"She still makes pro-con lists and cries on the bathroom floor."

"But not to me." She accused. Logan is not stupid to deduct that this is the real issue here.

"Your rocky relationship with Rory has nothing to do with me - that is all you."

Lorelai looked baffled at his boldness. The nerve that man has. She was ready to bite back. "How dare you.."

"You had your say. It's my turn now." Logan cut her off, "I've got other family responsibilities. They don't just dissolve into thin air because I wish they would, ignore them, or turn my back on them. Believe me; I've tried. But the cold hard truth is that the world doesn't just stop because something in my personal life happened." Logan's tone switch from collected to harsh, "I've got a legacy to live up to, and I have a private company with actual cash flow. I've got a business partner, employees, and all other kinds of other people counting on me not to crumble apart and turn up at work the next morning."

"You've got Rory - my daughter - counting on you too."

"Look, Lorelai, I don't owe you anything. The only one I owe an explanation to is your daughter - so butt out." Logan stated, "But of the sake of full disclosure - this isn't the first disappointment. It's probably not going to be the last either. I have made sure she had everything she needed. She didn't need me that instant."

"Of course she needed you, you idiot!"

"She didn't want me, okay?!" he snaps, "I would have stayed if she asked me to. She knows that. But she didn't. She. Didn't. Want. Me. This was big and traumatic, and she told me to go. She wanted **_you_**."

Lorelai crossed her arms, less than impressed.

"_**I**_ didn't cut it this time. She needed you, her mother, to tell her it's going to be okay this time." He was reeling, "I wouldn't have called you otherwise."

"She's my daughter, I'm her mother - don't you ever dare not to call me."

"Then start acting like one. This best-friends first, mother and daughter second, is getting old." Logan said in a low, firm tone. He recognized it as the one his father uses when he puts his foot down.

It happened fast, like a bat out of hell.

Heat radiated on his cheek from the impact of the slap. Lorelai looked at her hand as if it wasn't part of her body. A tense silence followed. So much for a gentleman biting his tongue, ducking his head, and bowing out.

Logan held his jaw fire in his eyes.

"Look, I know you don't like me. You don't know me, but you don't like me. That's fine. I don't need you to like me; mothers never like me. But I am here. Even if I don't play for your fiddle or you don't like how it's done. Until she tells me otherwise, and trust me, your daughter never had a problem walking away from me. She has never held back telling me to fuck off. I see where she gets it from." His tone indicated the conversation was through.

Blue eyes and brown eyes looked back furiously. The message was loud and clear.

Logan poured the glass of water into the sink, stopping on his way back to the bedroom, "I'll be polite, for her sake. Don't expect anything more. G'night."

**~W~**

* * *

"So, I was feeling hungry last night. I think it must be the jet lag; I'm not sure because I'm a regular night snacker, as you know." Lorelai rubbed her hands over the steaming coffee cup.

"As I know."

"Pie. I was craving pie. And I knew there were some in the fridge because we never got to eat it yesterday. It's not as good as Luke's, but what can you do. So, I padded quietly to the kitchen, in my best silent steps not to disturb my little girl's sleep... and guess what did I find in the kitchen?"

Rory looked at her mother, wearily. A guessing game was on. "A Raccoon."

"No! It was definitely bigger than a Raccoon."

"A unicorn," Rory played along with her mother's line of thought.

"Ah. Shoot. That would have been so much better."

"The Ginni from Aladdin," Rory answered flatly into her own coffee cup. She missed coffee.

"Logan Huntzberger."

"How disappointing. Are you sure there was no mythical creature lurking around?" Rory could see where this was heading, and she wasn't sure she wanted to go there. Lorelai Gilmore wasn't a big fan of all things Logan Huntzberger. Yesterday, after he left, Lorelai and Rory had vegged out in an ultimate Gilmore Girls manner.

It was nearly like old times. It cheered her up.

"Nope." Lorelai popped her 'p', "Just Logan Huntzberger."

"I'll make a note to call the supernatural department and file a complaint. You know what? Let's watch Harry Potter that should make you feel better."

"How come Logan has a key, and I don't?"

"Because you live across the country, and he lives upstairs. It makes sense logistically."

"It makes sense logistically." Lorelai echoed her daughter's response.

"Very practical, in my opinion."

"So he doesn't live here, in this apartment? Because he sure knows his way around." Indeed the key wasn't the issues.

"He's adaptable. The layout is pretty the same. Carrot stick?" Rory tried to shrug the conversation; she didn't feel like conducting serious discussions.

"I don't eat anything orange. Except for oranges because they admit they are orange."

"You eat Cheetos."

"Cheetos are artificially orange; it's not the same color. He sleeps in your bed." Rory knew the look on her mother's face.

"Who are you? Grandma?" Rory blinked at her mother's prude game, "But if you must know, generally, Logan doesn't sleep. And no, he doesn't live here, he lives upstairs in a much nicer apartment. He has a better view, a better mattress too, and exceptional water pressure in the shower. I doubt he's in a rush to move."

"I'm just trying to understand what is going on because I might be a little mistaken, but it felt like I was told off last night." Lorelai swallowed the insult with a struggle. "He has quite a mouth on him. He's got moxie; I'll give you that."

"What did you say to him?" Rory's heart thumped in her chest in alarm. Logan didn't attack unprovoked. He was the most composed man she knew.

"So this baby partnership thing. Is that more than a boyfriend or less than a boyfriend? I'm not familiar with the West Coast jargon you people use. Maybe because on the East Coast, we're a little more formal." Lorelai tried to mask her interrogation by playing funny, "What was the plan?"

"The plan?"

"For when the baby comes? Were you going to move in together? Here? There? Somewhere new? Or were you going to keep things as it is and push the crib in and out of the elevator when you splits your baby-sitting days? You must have a plan. Tell me about the plan."

"I don't know. We were figuring it out. What did you say to him?" Rory asked again. Something happened last night because Logan came back to bed even more agitated than before. He left for work extra early in the morning, and her mother looked relieved that he was already gone.

"What does the contract say?" Lorelai insisted on conducting a different conversation.

"It's none of your business."

"I'm just trying to fill in the blanks here. I mean, sure, the baby will have the looks, Logan is very handsome. Yet, grasping the idea that this man would pass on terrible traits to my future grandchild is quite overwhelming. But given the new circumstances - now what? Is that still on the table?"

"Is marrying dad still on the table?" Rory countered back.

"No. No. No. First, we talk about this; then we talk about your dad."

"I don't know! We haven't had the chance to talk about it."

"You hadn't had the chance to talk about it?"

"No, things are pretty fresh if you hadn't noticed. And you being here makes things difficult." Rory throws the words at her in frustration. Lorelai's mouth closed into a tight line.

"Why are you here, Mom?"

"Why… Why am I here?" Lorelai stuttered, baffled at the doubt oozing from the loaded questions. "Logan called me. You're my daughter, you were hurt, and I love you."

"So why can't you, for once, resist the urge to be judgmental and kick me when I'm down?"

Lorelai's eyes softened, "Rory, that's not what I'm trying to do."

"What about dad?"

**~W~**

* * *

Logan stood under the fast shower stream, letting the water run over his body, and the loud music to drown his thoughts. The sensation of the hot water massaging his aching muscles was welcome. He made his wall climbing session run longer; then, he went for a run until his lungs burnt.

Logan was stalling time and hiding out from the possible chaos unfolding down on the 5th floor. He should have taken his father's advice, take the gentleman way, and avoid confrontation. Ben appalled expression when Logan recalled last night incident during their private lunch, said it all.

_"You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, did you?"_

_"She started it."_

_"Very mature. Have you not learned anything from dealing with Mali Rosen?"_

Well, what is done is done. He should have listened to his father. But then again, where did Logan ever do what his father advised him to? Probably never.

Small female hands wrapped around his middle—another body pressed against his out of the blue. Logan nearly lost his balance. "God, you startled me!"

"It's too loud out there." Rory referred to the music, pressed her cheek into the sink between Logan's shoulder blades. Her hands explored the slippery skin. "Whatcha thinking?"

"How long does it takes for your fingers to wrinkle underwater?"

"You went rounds with my mom. What did she say to you?" Rory went straight to the point.

"We reached an understanding, let's leave that at that."

Rory weighed her next words carefully. Her mother avoided details too; she could either pressure him into telling her or leave this pandora box unopen as much as she wanted to know; maybe its better that she didn't.

"Thank you. No one has ever done that for me. That's hot, though, you are my hero." Rory kissed his shoulder, slowly moving into the space between his arms and the shower wall, wrapping her arms around his neck. She pulled his head down to her, forcing his lips open into a slow, deep kiss.

"I'm your baby partner, Rory - it's what I do." And he wouldn't take unfair flogging for just no reason.

"But next time, my mom - my fight. We talked, she'll fly out in two days."

"Be my guest." Logan rubbed his face in her neck. He couldn't wait for the dragon lady and her evil hawk eye to get back to Connecticut.

Logan resumed their kissing. One kiss chased another, and another and another, until he disconnect, almost tortured.

"We better stop, or I won't be able to stop myself. And that would be bad."

Rory smiles faintly. They can't take this any further for medical reasons. The newly formed intimacy they established inside the shower stall's small space is fragile, like a bubble of soap. Once they step out, it's going to burst into tiny fragments of matter.

"Logan,"

"Yeah?" He brushed wet strands of hair out of her face.

"Let's go to Vancouver Island. I need our bubble back."


End file.
